Of fathers and daughters
by happierhere
Summary: After Mr Weasley was attacked, Hermione worries that her parents may be in danger too. They go into hiding, but not before revealing they adopted Hermione when she was just a few weeks old... HG-SS: no romance!
1. Chapter 1 : Worried people all around

**Of fathers and daughters**

**Summary**: After Arthur Weasley has been attacked, and she meets Neville's mother in the hospital, Hermione worries that her parents may be in danger too. They go into hiding, but not before revealing they adopted Hermione when she was just a few weeks old. Dumbledore assigns Snape as her guardian. Will she find out who her real parents are? And how will Severus cope with the girl who is Harry Potter's friend as a ward? **Not a romance!**

**Spoilers:** Up to mid 5th book. Slight AU afterwards.

**Author's notes:** This is a new kind of project for me. I usually do stand-alone fics. I also challenged myself to write from different points of view. Fingers crossed!

Please review!

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Chapter one: Worried people all around

Molly knew she must resemble a headless chicken with the way she fluttered through the house. But this Christmas day had taken its toll on her. A few days before she had thought her husband to be dead. She had been worried dreadfully, but he had survived and was slowly getting better. Oh yes, he would be fine, Molly thought with a huff. Already he was up to his old tricks. Really, to let some apprentice Healer sew his wound back together. Mad, that husband of hers was!

Now her worries and anger had turned into nervous energy that she tried burning by walking though the house, cleaning and making sure everyone was alright. She'd already scared Remus and Nymphadora away, who were talking in the library. She smiled. Nymphadora obviously had the beginnings of a crush, but Remus didn't realize a thing. She wasn't planning on enlightening him, however. She was glad for him. Poor sod deserved a little happiness.

Harry spent as much time as he could with his Godfather. Now they both were playing a game of chess in Sirius' bedroom. Molly encouraged Harry's attempts at cheering Sirius up, (his moods went from excited happiness to gloomy sullenness) so she left them quietly to themselves.

Wisely she also ignored the twin's bedroom. Earlier she had noticed that all the children had gathered in there. She could hear excited whisperings and lots of laughter. If it had been only the twins, she would have barged in and confiscated everything they had been working on. But she hoped that the presence of the others, especially Hermione, would temper them. And if they were planning mischief on that Umbridge person, she would let them. They needed to blow off some steam, and from what Arthur had told her about Dolores Umbridge and how she behaved at the Ministry and beyond, she was a worthy subject. She just hoped her children had the common sense to let their plans stay plans and not to risk their education. Bogus Defense against the Dark Arts teacher or not, Hogwarts was still the best place to learn it all.

Sandwiches, she decided. Her kids would never say no to food. And she needed to feel useful again. She had given up on cleaning this place, it was like a never-ending task. She wondered where Kreacher was. He had been doing an awful job, but then again, the less she saw of that vile house-elf, the better. She made her way to the kitchen.

Where she was very surprised to see Hermione Granger, sitting by the fire. Molly was sure she had seen her enter the twin's room together with the others earlier. Seeing a book on the young girl's lap, she assumed she had left them with the excuse that she wanted to read. But the book lay closed and Hermione was staring into the flames. Molly went to sit next to her on the bench.

"Are you alright dear?" She asked, worried.

Startled, Hermione looked up at her. "Yeah sure, I'm fine." But she didn't look it.

Now that she thought of it, the younger children had been very subdued when they had came back from the coffee room.

"Did something happen in the hospital?" She asked, following her hunch.

"We met Gilderoy Lockhart. He kind of remembered us from school and then dragged us into his ward."

Yes, meeting their former teacher would have been slightly awkward, especially for her youngest son whose malfunctioning wand had caused most of his damage. But she felt there was something more. She looked at Hermione, waiting for her to continue.

"We met Neville Longbottom's mother." She finally said, in a very quiet voice. "They were tortured …"

Molly winced at the memory. "With the Cruciatus Curse, yes. The attack on them was horrible. They were very good people, Hermione. Successful Aurors. Wonderful parents. Good friends."

"Poor, poor Neville. She hardly recognize him." Hermione sobbed.

Molly drew her into an embrace. Poor Neville indeed. And poor children who had yet again been confronted with the effects of the war that had been and that would soon be again. No matter how grown-up they already were, they were still too young for what they had been thrown into. Hermione should be at home with her parents, having fun and being showered with Christmas presents, not sitting here alone in this haunted house crying her eyes out.

"You miss your parents, don't you?" She asked suddenly. Molly knew that she had had plans to travel with her parents. Ron had sent her an owl telling her Hermione was going to glide from snowy mountains. She assumed it was fun for Muggles. But then Arthur had gotten hurt en Hermione had joined them.

Hermione nodded.

"Nobody would have blamed you if you had gone home this holiday." But she had the feeling Hermione would have blamed herself. Ever since the three of them had became friends, they had been nearly inseparable. The poor girl probably thought it was her duty to protect her friends and to sacrifice her own happines for them.

"Mrs Weasley?" She asked. "Do you think they're safe?"

Molly was confused: all her friends were upstairs, weren't they. "Who, dear?"

"My parents. Are they in danger from You-kn… Voldemort? Because they are Muggles? Because of me?"

Hermione was shaking now. With guilt, Molly realized. She could understand where the idea had came from. The girl had been at the World Cup; she had seen what the likes of Lucius Malfoy did to innocent Muggles. She also had a high profile as Harry's friend: all the Deatheaters knew, through the stories of their own children at Hogwarts. The _Howler_ had even made her famous by telling the worlds she was Harry's off and on girlfriend. Not that that was true.

"I don't know." She answered truthfully. "Right now, He-who-must-not-be-named is obsessed with finding… with hurting Harry. But that doesn't mean his followers won't try to hurt you."

"Because I'm close to him." Hermione said, without a trace of bitterness in her voice.

"Because you are important in this blasted war too." She meant it. "Wars are not won by one person." Harry might be the key into defeating You-know-who, but his followers would not be stopped by the prophesy alone.

"They don't even know."

"What, dear?" An emotional Hermione, Molly experienced, was not a very clear one.

"Anything, everything... All they know about this world is what I tell them. And I only tell them about the good stuff. About school, and Quidditch..."

Nothing that would worry them in the least, Molly translated: nothing like fighting trolls, facing basilisks and evil megalomaniac wizards returning from the death. "It's ok." She soothed her. "You didn't want them to worry."

"And now they know nothing." Hermione continued, not showing any sign she had heard Molly. They would even invite a Deatheater into the house, if they told them they knew me, because they know no better. How can I protect them?" She sounded desperate.

"They might not even be in danger." Molly tried to sooth her again, but even she felt how feeble the attempt was. Hermione was not fooled. Molly sighed. She didn't have an answer.

"I'll talk to Moody." She eventually promised. If even paranoid Mad-Eye didn't see a cause for worry, Hermione's parents would be safe. If not, the Order could find a solution. Hermione's thoughts seemed to echo her own, because she nodded slowly in agreement.

"All right then." Molly stood and clapped her hands. "I need to make some sandwiches. Do you want to help?"

She got a feeble smile. But after a while Hermione's mood changed. She was lured back into conversation; mostly asking Molly about her OWLs and how they had gone. But she was glad she got her son's friend to smile again.

If only all the problems in the world could be fixed with a smile…


	2. Chapter 2 : No easy solutions

Chapter two: No easy solutions

Hermione was a staunch advocate of paying attention in every class. Harry's and Ron's bruised shins could attest to that. But Professor Binns, even on his best days, made it very hard to stay attentive. Normally she took notes non-stop to stay awake. (Off course these perfect notes became very hot items in theirt common room, and it became even more difficult to convince the others to pay attention.)

Now, this lesson, the first with Binns after they had returned to Hogwarts, she found it very hard to stay focused. Their usual challenging lessons, preparing for the DA-lessons and staying out of Umbridge's clutches were normally enough to distract her. But now her thoughts flowed freely, and they took her to dangerous places. From Umbridge, the pink dictator, to the news that several Deatheaters had escaped from Azkaban. From Harry's lessons in Occlumency to Voldemorts plans. And from her friends to her parents.

Suddenly a knock on the door startled them. Actually, as Binns' voice had been hypnotising most including himself into a trance, nobody noticed Headmaster Dumbledore until he had entered the room and loudly coughed. All the students sat up straight and pretended they were paying rapt attention to whatever Professor Binns was telling them.

Headmaster Dumbledore's eyes were twinkling with amusement that the Professor still hadn't noticed him. But when he stood in front of the class and gently interrupted his ghostly colleague, his face had turned serious and even grave.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, Professor. But I'm here to collect one of your students, Miss Granger."

The class immediately erupted into speculation. Was she in trouble? What had she done? Why was Dumbledore here personally, when normally everything happened through the Heads of Houses?

"Would you please join me, Hermione?" Dumbledore asked in a kind voice and walked back towards the entrance, waiting for her by the door.

The use of a student's first name was very unusual. So unusual that almost every student in the class was now looking at Hermione with concern. Even the Slytherins were no longer gleefully leering at her, but were now staring curiously. Hermione ignored them all. Nervous she tried to pack her bag, but her hands were suddenly shaking. Ron quickly packed her bag for her, while Harry squeezed her shoulder with his hand, trying to comfort her.

She gave them a very unconvincing smile in thanks and quickly followed Dumbledore out of the classroom.

The Headmaster didn't speak on the way to the office, and Hermione felt much to nervous to try and ask him questions.

It was the first time she entered Dumbledore's office. It looked very special, but she didn't feel like looking around much. She just wanted to know why she was here. The fact that Professor McGonagall was already sitting there, with a very concerned look on her face, didn't help.

Dumbledore made way to his chair and just before sitting down he grabbed a small bag and held it out:

"Lemon drop?"

"Oh for Merlin's sake, Albus. Just tell her!" Professor McGonagall burst out.

Hermione's heart sank even lower. "It's my parents, isn't it?" It was the only possibility. Her friends were sitting safe and sound in class, now definitely not listening to Binns, and if someone of the Order had been hurt, it would have been Harry sitting here and not her.

"They are alive and well, Miss Granger. No need to worry." Her Head of House quickly reassured.

Relief and puzzlement vied for dominance. "But, …" She started.

Dumbledore interrupted. "Alastor Moody brought to my attention that you had been worried about the safety of your parents."

So Mrs Weasley had talked to Professor Moody, Hermione thought.

"We have discussed it, and we all agree that there might be cause for your concern. Unfortunatly there are rather a few Deatheaters who have it in for Muggleborns and Muggles alike."

She remembered the Deatheaters, including Draco Malfoy's father, "playing" with the poor Muggles running the camping site last summer. 'Having it in for them' didn't seem like a strong enough description. Hating them, desiring to purge them from the world, … were more appropriate.

"Unfortunately our little organisation…" Dumbledore didn't call the Order by name, but Hermione nodded to sign she understood, "currently has too many tasks and too little willing hands for us to provide protection for your parents."

"I understand, Professor." The happiness she had felt quickly dissapeared.

"However," Dumbledore continued, "Alastor has come up with a rather drastic idea to keep your parents safe." Professor McGonagall huffed rather loudly.

"He and Miss Tonks, you remember her from this summer, right?" He asked. At Hermione's nod, he continued. "They have already set the first steps into motion."

Professor McGonnagall huffed again. "Rather prematurely."

Dumbledore suppressed a small smile. "Indeed. What's done is done, but Professor McGonnagal and I both agree you should have a say in the decision."

"Thank you… I guess." Hermione said. "What was their plan?"

"They want to fake your parents' death, and relocate them to another country."

"They crashed your family's car this morning. We'll be visiting your parents now, to explain what has happened and to clean up this mess." Professor McGonnagall added.

"No."

Both teachers looked to her in shock.

"I want them to be safe." Hermione explained. "No matter what." The plan was drastic, indeed. But it would work. Nobody would seek to kill her parents if they were already _dead_.

"Child, you do not understand." The witch tried to passionately explain. "They want to Obliviate them. Erase all their memories of you, of being the Granger Family. Think of your parents. Would they want that? Forget their only daughter?"

Hermione tried to think of her parents and of what they would want. But when she tried to picture her mother, she could only see Alice Longbottom, staring blankly at her own son, who desperately wanted her to be safe and healthy. Her parents didn't deserve death, or a fate worse than death, just because they had given birth to a witch. If they forgot her, they would also forget to worry about her and to contact her. They would live out their lives, happy and safe.

"I understand the implications." Hermione said, with more confidence than she felt. "They'll be safer without me."

"But.." Professor McGonnagall started.

"Now Minerva, we agreed the decision would be Miss Grangers' and Miss Grangers' alone."

She looked like she wanted to argue some more, but Hermione shot her a look full of determination. The Headmaster backed her up with silent acceptation. Eventually she sighed.

"Then I suggest we leave." Dumbledore went to the fireplace, took a tin box and opened it to reveal Floo Powder. "Arthur Weasley used his contacts at the Ministry to temporarily connect your house's fireplace to the Floo Network." He offered her the box. "Have you travelled by Floo before?"

"No," Hermione said. "But I'm sure I'll manage."

She was glad both Professors pretended not to have heard her voice creak.

As soon as she left the fireplace, face and clothes only slightly covered in soot, she was engulfed in one of her mother's bear hugs. It took all the strength she had not to start crying at that very instant. But she wanted to say goodbye properly, so blubbering all over the place wouldn't help.

Both her teachers arrived as well and her mother greeted her new visitors politely. Her father just nodded during the introductions and took his turn hugging his daughter.

They retired to the living room quietly. If this had been a normal situation, Hermione probably would have smiled at the discrepancy of seeing Professor Dumbledore and McGonnogal in their Wizard robes in the very normal, maybe even slightly boring, green room.

Tonks entered the room, very carefully carrying a full tray with tea into the room. Luckily the cups survived the trip. Tonks herself had morphed her hair from the garish pink Hermione had last seen into a very conservative chestnut brown.

"I'm going to check the perimeters with Moody. Call if you need me." She spoke to Dumbledore, but it was Hermione's hand she patted. Hermione smiled up to her in thanks.

Her mother sighed. Three pairs of eyes looked curiously at her.

"I'm sorry," she apologised, "but until you arrived, I had hoped this was all just some horrible mistake."

Hermione didn't know what to say. Dumbledore stepped in. "Perhaps you could tell us what you already know, and then we will fill in the blanks."

"There is a war going on. We are in danger because Deathpeople might want to kill us." Her mother reiterated.

"Deatheaters." Hermione corrected her. "They are the followers of Voldemort." Professor McGonnogal flinched at the name, Dumbledore nodded impressed.

"Voldemort. The evil wizard that has _returned from the dead_ to kill all of us?" There was a undertone of sarcasm in her mother's voice. It did sound quite absurd if you put it like that, Hermione pondered.

"I assure you, he has returned. And he will wage war. Last time he killed hundreds of fine men and women. We fear he will strike again."

"How can you be so sure he is back?" Her father, normally a very quiet man, jumped into the conversation angry. "All you have is the word of a fifteen year old boy!"

Hermione and McGonnogal jumped up at the accusation and started to defend Harry: "Harry is my friend and he wouldn't lie!" – "Harry Potter can be trusted."

Dumbledore held up a hand to calm everyone down. "I assure you, Mister Granger. We have more proof than Harry's testimony. We have a spy in Voldemort's inner circle, who has seen him on many occasions."

_Snape_, Hermione realised. They had suspected as much, and now she knew for sure.

Her father meanwhile sighed and rubbed his face with his hands.

"So there really is a war? And your friend Harry is this great prophesised hero who is going to save the world? A mere boy?"

"Harry isn't fighting alone." Hermione glanced at Dumbledore, not knowing how much she could say.

"The Order of the Phoenix." Hermione's mother said. "Mr. Moody told us he was from that organisation."

Hermione noticed that professor McGonnogal's face had scrounged into the disapproving manner she and her friend knew all to well. But professor Dumbledore just smiled beatifically.

"Good, so you know that we will do everything in our power to keep our students, _all of them_, safe."

Her parents looked at each other for a moment, like they were communicating mentally. Hermione knew the ritual too well from her childhood: her parents always made the important decisions together. The problem was that she never had been able to read them during these moments. Their decision could go either way, and she nervously clenched hands between her legs. Her Head of House noticed this gesture and lay a warm hand on Hermione's shoulder. She appreciated it

After a long silence her mother spoke up. "If our family truly is in dagner, we will come with you."

"And Hermione with us." Her father added.

"No." Hermione spoke, softly but determined.

Her parents didn't accept this. "Hermione, you're in danger." They pleaded.

"I can't and I won't leave Harry. I'm sorry." She added truthfully. Her heart ached at the idea that this could be the last time she would see her parents. But she refused to go into hiding with them, while she had the opportunity and the powers to help.

"But…"

Dumbledore spoke up. "Your daughter is a brave girl. She has faced many dangers before."

"She's just a child! She shouldn't have to be in any danger!" Her father cried out exasperated.

Her mother however had listened to Dumbledore's exact words. "What kind of dangers?" She asked her daughter, with an icy cold voice.

Hermione knew she was in for it and stiffened. This was felt by the elder witch, whose hand was still resting on her shoulder. "You never told them?" She asked in disbelief. Hermione just shook her head, hoping that her cheeks wouldn't turn too red. "The troll? The basilisk? Freeing Sirius Black?"

Hermione couldn't believe her Transfiguration teacher. Did she really think that if she told her parents that she had stared a basilisk in the eye (even through a mirror), she would have been allowed to return for her third year? Her accounts of school life had been highly edited!

Before a sarcastic retort could slip from her lips, her mother all but exploded: "Sirius Black? Mass murderer Sirius Black? The escaped convict!?" Hermione had never seen her mother so angry, not even when in a bout of accidental magic her 5-year-old self had set the couch on fire.

She looked at Dumbledore for support, but it was that moment her Headmaster chose for a tactical retreat.

"Perhaps it would be best if we leave you and your family to it. There are probably lots of thing you still want to tell each other without us listening in." He rose gracefully and nodded to his companion, who, Hermione noticed, hastily complied.

Faced with two angry, worried, scared and loving parents, who were full of questions, Hermione wondered if there was any point in coming completely clean to her parents. They were going forget everything anyway. But when she drew in a deep breath before talking, she just knew she was going to tell them everything. Every detail. Because _she _wanted to remember no secrets between them.


	3. Chapter 3 : Revelations

**Chapter three: Interesting revelations**

Albus and Minerva retreated into the Grangers' kitchen. Alastor and Tonks were already there.

"Tea?" Tonks nervously suggested. Minerva had already given her a piece of her mind earlier and the young girl seemingly didn't want to repeat that experience. She needn't worry. Minerva had already decided for herself that she wouldn't argue the point anymore, as the Grangers had already made up their mind. However sad it was, the war would ask many more sacrifices. At least this family had been given a choice.

She was still a little put-out however, because they had apparently told the family almost every Order's secret. Including the prophesy, they had worked so hard to keep secret from Harry. Fortunately Hermione hadn't noticed.

"How did it go?" asked Alastor gruffly.

Albus looked at him with a badly concealed grin: "Are you telling me Alastor, you haven't listened in?"

The ex-auror shrugged unabashed. Tonks however turned slightly pink and said: " We have already contacted Kingsley to warm him we will arrive with Hermione's parents later today. He's the best of us with memory charms." That was good news, Minerva noted. If an expert charmed them instead of just erasing everything, the effects could perhaps some day be reversed.

"And Miss Granger herself?"

"The Weasleys have volunteered to keep her for a few days. Take her to the funeral and so."

"The funeral?" Minerva asked confused.

"We think it's best to make this as convincing as possible. The Grangers have a lot of friends and clients. We can hardly change everyone's memory and it would be strange if they were just to disappear."

"That poor girl" Minerva sighed. Suddenly the offered tea seemed very desirable. She quickly reheated the pot Tonks had made earlier and poured them all a cup. She took hers with much more sugar then usual.

"What about their family?" Albus went on.

"They're not very close." Tonks explained. "No grandparents left. Her godmother, her father's sister, emigrated to the United States. Her mother has got a few cousins living in Ireland."

"Good." Albus and Alastor stated together. Minerva huffed in disgust. This earned her a disapproving glare from Albus.

"You know that's not what we meant, Minerva. It just simplifies matters like appointing a suitable guardian."

She understood, but she didn't have to like it. She sipped from her cup again. Albus, Minerva and Tonks sat at the table in an uncomfortable silence. Alastor however moved around nervously in the kitchen, occasionally peeking trough the window and then checking his oddly quiet Sneakoscope. With every step he took, his false leg generated a hollow 'click' when it hit the tiles, the sound resonating through the kitchen, like the 'tock's' of a badly working clock.

Suddenly he stopped. Minerva and the other looked up at him, unconsciously reaching for their wands. But then he let out a loud laugh that sounded more then a bark.

"That little girl is priceless." He laughed again; "She'd stand up against You-know-who-himself with that courage of hers, but she gets embarrassed when they ask her 'bout her beau Krum."

She saw Albus' eyes twinkle and Tonks' lips twinge into an amused smile. _Horrible_ _people. _

"Alastor!" She chastised him. "That's a private conversation."

He merely shrugged and returned to the window. "Can't turn these suckers off." He said and pointed at his right ear, while he used his left hand to draw the curtains aside so he could peek at the street again.

"Then don't share with the rest of the class!" To her own regret she had just reverted into her strict classroom persona. And this to the amusement of her table companions. She glared at them in annoyance, but they pretended not to notice her, glancing around the room and avoiding eye contact.

"Her father's coming our way." Alastor said.

And indeed, the moment the words had left his mouth, they heard a timid knock from the door. Mr. Granger came into the room.

Minerva felt sorry for the man, now forced to tread cautiously in his own house. It was clear from the furtive looks he kept throwing Moody's way, he was afraid of the strange wizard. No surprise there, off course, the years of fighting Dark wizards had taken their toll on his appearance. When put into a line-up with the likes of Lucius Malfoy, most Muggles and even most Wizardkind would cast Moody into the roll of bad guy.

Albus rose gracefully (not showing his age in the slightest, she noted with a small pang of jealousy) and attracted the younger man's attention.

"Yes, Mister Granger?" He asked in a voice he usually reserved for terrified first-years.

"Eurhm, yes. I just came to tell you that we've almost finished. I mean, we still have to say goodbye. But.." He rambled on. Before any of them could calm him, he quickly recovered and pulled himself together. Minerva smiled, a real smile this time, she had seen the same behavior in Hermione before.

"What I meant. We believe her. We always _have believed in her_." He emphatically stated. "So we will leave. But there are a few things we still need to tell her. Give her. So I need to go to the bank and empty our safety-deposit box."

Albus thought deeply and glanced at the three of them. "I think it would be best that Miss Tonks and I join you. In case of trouble."

Minerva quickly translated: Moody would stand out as a sore thumb in a Muggle bank. Tonks was the better option, looks wise. But they needed someone to Obliviate the Muggles they met, because it would be strange for Mr. Granger to withdraw something when he was supposed to be in a hospital, dying. She agreed with the assessment. It had the added bonus of herself playing the go-between between the Grangers and Alastor.

Albus transfigured his clothing into something more appropriate. His beard however, long and almost completely white, still stood out. To his credit, Mister Granger didn't flinch or stared at the sudden use of magic in his kitchen, but silently led them out into the hallway and presumably outside.

Minerva settled back into her chair, expecting a long tiresome wait before the next step of their plan.

Alastor however addressed her a few moments later: "Perhaps you could join the party in the living room, Minerva. Our young protégée has just received some troubling news and could benefit from an ally."

She complied not expecting the scene she would walk into.

* * *

Hermione sat very still on a couch, whilst staring at her mother. Unnaturally still, Minerva noticed. It reminder her of when a younger Hermione had been petrified. She became instantly worried. The elder Miss Granger however, just stared back at her daughter, looking very anxious.

Not knowing if addressing them would startle them too much, she entered the room without speaking, but made enough noise for them to notice her. She would have made many first-year boy jealous with the way she purposely dragged her feet.

It succeeded, both women slowly turned towards her, like they were waking from dream. Hermione's mother recovered first and addressed her. "Professor McGonnagall. Please join us. I was just telling Hermione of her past and perhaps it would be best if you knew this too. So you can help her, after we've… we've…"

_Gone_, Minerva added in her mind. She gently smiled at the poor woman who desperatly tried to swallow away the tears that had suddenly appeared.

Hermione took pity on her and explaind. "My mother has just told me she's not my biological mother. I was adopted." She sounded like she didn't quiete believe it herself.

Her mother continued. "When you were just a few weeks old, your biological father took you to the emergency room of the hospital in Brighton."

"Where granddad worked." Hermione filled in. Her mother nodded.

"He asked an older woman to take care of you for a few minutes, while he went to the bathroom. But he never returned. They looked for him, off course, but they couldn't find him. My father knew we were planning to adopt, so he pulled some strings. And you has been ours ever since."

"So there wasn't a note? Nothing to explain or to identify him?" Minerva asked with some curiosity.

"No. Nothing but the clothes on her back and a pink toy rabbit with a pendant attached."

"_Bunny_?" Hermione asked before she could stop herself and then quickly ducked her head, trying to hide her blush.

Minerva, off course diplomatically hid her grin. She found it heartwarming that Miss Granger, who had since she met her tried to act grown beyond her years, had a favorite fluffy toy that she remembered kindly.

Her mother hadn't noticed a thing. "Yes, Bunny. You loved that thing. You took it everywhere with you. Like you knew it was special. And it never even got dirty, never mind lost. It was just like …"

"Magic." All three women said together with a smile.

"We should have known then there was something special about our Hermione." Her mother left her settee and joined Hermione, pulling her in a hug. Hermione muttered some complaints, but inched closer nonetheless.

"When did you find out Hermione was a witch?" Minerva asked. It was the usual subject she used to break the ice when she met the Muggle parents of her students (not that it happened often). Some children didn't find out about their heritage until their Hogwarts letter arrived, but most of the time there was a Wizard or a Witch in the family or one living in the neighborhood, who enlightened them.

"When she was about five, fires kept popping up around her. We started to get worried about , you know, violent tendencies, so we got her a therapist. He was a godsend. He helped her control her emotions."

Fires, Minerva thought. Hadn't there been an incident a few years back involving Severus' robes and fire?

"I think he might have been a Squib." Hermione realized out loud, breaking Minerva's train of thought. "He told me I had special powers, but didn't tell me more. He never showed me any powers of his own. I didn't even know there were others until I got my letter." She turned towards her mother.

"You probably suspected…"

"That you had inherited those powers. Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me?" She obviously had been keeping herself from asking that question, but now it escaped her as an impassioned plea.

"I don't know. We always planned to. We wanted to tell you when you got older. But then you were accepted into Hogwarts and we decided to wait, let you adapt to your new environments."

Hermione looked skeptical.

"Really dear, we were going to tell you. We decided on your sixteenth birthday. We were going to buy you a new necklace so you could carry the pendant with you. Combing the old and the new. We were going to give it together with the earrings your Nana left for you…" She was becoming too overwhelmed to speak. "I guess you'll get everything today." She started sobbing. Hermione seemed to be torn between anger, compassion and sadness and didn't know what to do.

Minerva was spared from an awkward silence, because then the sound of Apparition heralded the return of Albus, Tonks and Mr. Granger. _Really_, Minerva thought. _Side-along-apparition with an already traumatized Muggle?_ Moody came barging into the room, wand drawn, to investigate who had intruded into the house.

Albus explained: "I'm sorry our rather sudden return. But Mister Granger insisted on stopping by a jewelry store and after that we didn't want to be seen any longer."

Those few words were the water that broke the dam. Hermione leaped from the couch and almost flew into the arms of her father, crying loudly.

"Ah." Albus said, slightly puzzled. "I see. Perhaps we should retreat into the kitchen again."

"No." Hermione's mother, who by then had gotten up and joined the family hug, said, "I think it's best to say our goodbyes now. It will only get harder if we wait." Again a sob.

Her husband nodded. He also had started crying. "I don't want to leave you, Hermione."

"You have to, Dad." She answered, but she didn't let go of her parents. Instead she tightened her grip like she wanted to disappear between the two bodies.

Mister Granger gently pulled himself free from the embrace and walked over to the table, where he unloaded the bag he had brought with him. _The contents of the safe_, Minerva guessed.

"This is all yours, Hermione. Everything we ever owned, is now yours." He said and gently stringed the pendant on a sleek silver necklace. "This however, has always been yours. And it's time it was returned to you."

When he wanted to give the piece of jewelry to Hermione, he was stopped by Albus. "Do you mind if we check it first. If her father was a Wizard, perhaps this is a enchanted item."

He handed it over without complaint and returned to his family. Albus motioned to Alastor to help him examine the item.

"Mom, Dad. Even if you're going to forget. I just want you to know that you are _my real parents_. Nothing will ever change that. I'm going to miss you." Hermione started.

Minerva felt her heart break when Hermione's father struggled for words. _How cruel that they can't even say they'll miss her too._ But the memory charms were necessary, Minerva understood that. It was safer for all of them if they weren't tempted to return or to contact Hermione.

"You'll have to remember for us, dear." Her mother said. "How much we love you. How you are our special girl!"

"I'll find you." Hermione said. "I'll find you." She kept repeating those words like it was a mantra. Her parents just hugged her.

"Just be safe, honey. Try to be safe."

Minerva looked away. She shouldn't be here. Shouldn't intrude on this very intimate moment. She saw that Tonks was having the same problems and was anxiously looking around the room in the hopes of finding something to focus on. If she wasn't mistaking, Tonks seemed to be fighting back tears.

Even Alastor seemed subdued. He had limped over to the window, ostentatiously to check for intruders, but his mechanical eye seemed to be focused on the floor. Albus however, seemed oblivious to the tragic scene unfolding in the room. He was staring at the pendant with a slightly worried look on his face. When he saw Minerva looking at him, he walked over to them and handed the necklace to Mister Granger. He in turn gently fastened it around Hermione's neck.

Minerva quickly glanced at it to see what Albus had noticed. The pendant was a silver plaque the size of a matchbox. The engraving seemed to be of a bird, but that was all she could see before Hermione put it under her robes.

A few minutes later, Alastor and Tonks appareated away with Hermione's parents. With one loud 'crack' Hermione lost both of her parents. Minerva braced herself for the inevitable breakdown. But to her surprise, Hermione started composing herself, by drying her tears and taking steady breaths.

"Do we return to Hogwarts now?" She asked, bravely pretending nothing had happened.

Minerva nodded no, both in answer to her question and in disbelief of what she had just seen. Albus seemed to share her sentiment.

"I'm sorry, Hermione." He said with a strange tone to his voice. "But I'm afraid we'll have to ask you to play out this scenario to the end."

"You mean, like a funeral…" Hermione asked stunned.

"I'm afraid so. We'll take you to the Weasley Family for tonight. They'll help arranging everything tomorrow and the next few days. You don't have to return to Hogwarts until Monday. Or even later if you need the time."

Minerva half expected Hermione to start arguing about missing classes. But the young girl was sunken in thoughts. When she spoke, she sounded very meek. "I don't mean to be rude, sir. But could you perhaps send someone else? Mr. Weasley is a great man, but he doesn't know much about this world"

It was a very euphemistic way of putting it, Minerva mused. They all knew how exited Arthur could get about Muggles. Too excited to accompany a girl in grief.

"Yes, yes." Albus agreed, with his trademark twinkle reappearing in his eyes. "Perhaps it would be best to consider someone else. We will send him or her tomorrow morning. You should rest tonight"

"We'll take you to the Burrow now." Minerva said, laying a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Hermione looked at their fireplace. "Can I use the Floo?" She asked. "If they're expecting me, you don't need to accompany me."

She suddenly looked very tired. Minerva understood. It was probably was costing the poor girl all of her energy to keep her shields up. She didn't want to break down in front of two of her teachers. Minerva felt awful that she didn't want to confide in them, but could understand it. At least Molly, the kindest woman and the prototype of a mother, would be waiting for her and would support her. Hermione needed to cry. Dead or not she had just lost her parents.

* * *

When she and Albus were the last ones left in the deserted Granger residence, she addressed him: "You recognized the pendant, didn't you. You know who her father is." She failed to keep an accusatory tone out of her voice.

Albus slowly shook his head. "I can't be sure. I think I saw it before."

"Can you tell me where?"

Again her old professor and friend shook it's head. "It might be best if we don't know."

Minerva gasped. "A Deatheater?"

"Perhaps." Albus said gravely. "But we can't know for sure. We don't know how the pendant ended up in her possession. I think it is best if we kept the fact of Miss Granger's adoption between ourselves."

"And her parentage a secret?"

"As the person leaving her in the hospital obviously desired."

Minerva nodded. At least he had the foresight and the compassion to leave her in a warm hospital where she would be taken care of. And of what she had just seen, Hermione had been very lucky to have ended up with the Grangers.

She sighed. "Lets return to Hogwarts. We still have work to do." She especially dreaded having to inform her House of the tragic accident that had happened this morning.


	4. Chapter 4 : Guardian duties

**Chapter four**** : Guardian duties**

Severus dragged himself to the teachers' lounge. He would have gladly retired to him own rooms after dinner, but the Headmaster had called a meeting. And as Umbridge had reminded them for the umpteenth time_, all_ teachers were obliged to attend _every_ session. She had addressed the whole table, but they all knew her words were meant for Trelawney, Hagrid and Binns, who normally didn't show up. They preferred to be briefed in private by Dumbledore and didn't care much for the usual school politics.

As the Head of Slytherin he would have complied anyhow, even though he knew exactly what the Headmaster would tell them tonight. There had been an emergency Order meeting this morning concerning the same thing (or rather person) after all. He had decided to rebel a little and had first gone to the Slytherin common room, to notify his prefects to not disturb him in any case tonight, unless it was a matter of life or death. He desperately needed some time to himself with the many duties he had to attend to. And now he had yet another.

Suppressing a sigh, he entered the lounge. To his surprise he was not the last one to enter. They were still waiting on Mrs Regulations herself. With a smirk he realized that she didn't like to take orders either, however well she issued them. She showed up a few moments later, armed with a clipboard and a quill.

"As you all know, one of our students, Miss Hermione Granger, has tragically lost her parents last week. Tomorrow, after the funeral, Mrs Weasley, who has been very kind to look after her, will return her to Hogwarts." Dumbledore started to explain.

The Umbridge woman hum-hummed and interrupted him. "As sad as this all is… is this truly a reason to call a meeting?" Severus could almost see her taking a note: 'discussing personal issues of students: inefficient use of time.'

Dumbledore continued as if nothing had happened. The other teachers also seemed to ignore her coldhearted outburst. "I, Professors McGonagall and Snape visited her this morning; she seems to be coping well and is anxious to come back to school."

She interrupted again: "Why visit her? And why Snape? What's he to the Granger child?"

McGonagall exploded: "Could you please not refer to her as 'that Granger child'. Hermione Granger has lost the only family she has and she deserves all the sympathy this combined faculty is willing to give her."

Severus rolled his eyes mentally. He should have known that the embodiment of Gryffindor courage would not be able to keep her temper under control. And really: sympathy? Was that to be the great excuse for his presence? Who would ever believe that?

Dumbledore spoke again; still calm on the surface. Severus had known the Headmaster long enough to know you couldn't necessary trust his exterior mood; you had to look at his eyes. They stared with a coldness at Umbridge and Severus could spot impatience and perhaps even disgust in them. "If you would let me finish, Dolores. We went to check up on her, but also to inform her of some important matters."

He turned back to the collective of teachers. "As Minerva just pointed out Miss Granger has now become an orphan. As her family doesn't live close and has no knowledge of Miss Granger being a Witch, the Clearwater Rule comes into play."

"The Clearwater Rule?" Umbridge asked with a skeptical tone to her voice.

"Aptly named after Penelope Clearwater. That poor girl lost her parents in 1873. When the School informed her great-uncle of her powers he agreed to let her keep attending Hogwarts. But when she went home during the holidays, she was rather tragically killed during a violent exorcism. Her uncle blamed her for her parents' deaths. After that it was decided that in case of an orphaned Muggle-born no other Muggles were to be informed of her status and that the school would provide a guardian instead."

To everyone's surprise it was Binns suddenly spoke up. "Ah, yes. I remember that poor Miss Clearwater. She was a very gifted child, not a very good History student though. Her death was quiet terrible."

"Has this happened often then?" Umbridge questioned the ghost, who had to dig deeply into his memories.

"Once. A Mr Jonathon Jenkins from Ravenclaw. He and his parents were caught in a house fire. His parents died instantly and he himself spent the remainder of his childhood years in a coma. His guardian only had the task of visiting his sick bed every once in a while." Dumbledore helped them along. It made sense, Severus thought. Most Muggle-borns were either orphaned before they came here, or they already had a significant other who knew about their status.

"Wasn't there anything the Healers could do?" Matron Pomfrey asked.

Dumbledore shook his head sadly. "The poor boy was beyond recovery. He passed away shortly before his 20th birthday."

"So who will you choose for the task, Albus?" Flitwick asked. "It's customary for a Head of House to take on the mantel of guardian, isn't it?" Severus thought that his colleague almost sounded eager to have Hermione under his care. He could have the girl for all he was concerned. But alas…

"I have already asked Severus to be her guardian. And he has kindly accepted."

Not that he had had any choice in the matter, Severus thought darkly while he nodded his agreement. It was ironic, he mused. Of his two masters, it had been the Dark Lord who had told him to lay low and bide his time. Dumbledore however piled task upon task on him. He always asked very politely, off course: preparing potions for the entire Order, researching dark spells, attending meetings in the mutt's house, spying on his own students and so on. He sacrificed the little free time he had in order to teach the Potter brat Occlumency and now he had yet another Gryffindor under his responsibility. At least this would be a mere formality. He would have to sign official papers and receive her grades, but the Weasleys would be her actual guardians. Thank heavens, he thought. After years of teaching he wasn't even sure he still liked children.

Meanwhile a discussion had broken out. He observed with quiet amusement how Dumbledore tried to calm the other teachers.

"But Albus, Severus has an unfair bias towards Gryffindor." Sprout huffed. "Surely someone else could be better equipped..." Flitwick started, but then realized he had just quite severely insulted his colleague. "Severus, you do fine with your own students, nobody will disagree with me on that. But… she's friends with Mr Potter and you … well yes you and …" Hate the brat, he agreed. Saying it out loud would only land him another 'talk' with Dumbledore.

It was McGonagall who interrupted them all by standing up and literally standing by Severus. "I'm quite sure that Severus can put his personal dislikes aside in order to help Miss Granger out. He already has."

Dumbstruck was the proper word to describe his colleagues.

"So that is why you weren't teaching your classes this Friday." Umbridge asked with a calculating look Severus didn't like in her eyes.

"Indeed." He answered. He had already noticed she didn't like short answers and he didn't particularly feel like obliging her.

Dumbledore used this as the opportunity to get back into control of this meeting.

"Yes," He bellowed, a tad to enthusiastic: "Severus has helped Miss Granger with the necessary Muggle arrangements."

"You are a Muggle-born?" Umbridge cried out, her shock to great to mask her blood-purity sentiments.

"No." He told her pointedly. "I did grow up in the Muggle world." It was all he was planning to tell the retched woman. His background was none of her business. She gave him an appraising look before she turned to look (down) at Flitwick and at Sprout, who was resuming her knitting of baby socks for the new batch of Mandrakes.

Then she spoke up: "I also support Professor Snape's guardianship."

"Well then," Dumbledore spoke whilst the twinkle returned in his eyes: "If we're all in agreement, I see no reason to keep you all here any longer."

Severus quickly rose and swept out of the room before anyone could stop him to talk to him. He knew that none of them would dare to follow him to his own chambers. No one ever had.

The next day started out quietly. Dumbledore had told him he himself would attend the fake funeral and would bring the girl back to Hogwarts himself. The morning class of 5th year Slytherins and Gryffindors were unusually subdued. Granger's housemates were staring at her empty seat. His students knew better than to make inappropriate jokes at this time. Perhaps in the hallways they would taunt the Gryffindors, but they wouldn't dare in front of him. He had taught them better.

The other classes went great as well. There had been no accidents, spills or explosions, so he almost walked into the Great Hall for his dinner a satisfied man. Almost, because he still had Potterduty later that night.

He had just finished his soup and was reaching for the potatoes, when the usual buzzing of student conversation died out. He looked up and, like the other occupants of the room, saw the Headmaster leading Miss Granger to her table. She looked exhausted, to say the least. He even felt slightly sorry for her, because he knew that tact was not one of the few Gryffindor traits. He expected her to be barraged with questions in three… two… one…

But before anyone at the table could ask her a question she had been surrounded by the Weasley children and Potter. The younger ones sat next to and over her, effectively blocking all contact, while the twins lingered nearby to make sure none of the others would approach them. Severus was reminded that they used to be the Gryffindor beaters. But what was most surprising to him was that they themselves were leaving Granger to eat in peace as well. Molly Weasley's influence, he guessed. Smart woman.

McGonagall on his left side noticed this too and whispered to him: "It seems like you won't need to worry too much about your ward. Her friends have got it covered."

"I don't plan on worrying at all." He drawled out. The nerve of the woman. She knew fully well he was only doing this because Dumbledore had asked him too. The Granger girl needed a guardian who was also a member of the Order, so their wouldn't be awkward questions about her spending her holidays in an unplottable house. He was the obvious choice and he would do his duty, but nothing beyond. If the chit had emotional problems, she would have to find another shoulder to cry on, because he refused.

He got up from the table without another word. He needn't look back to know there was a disapproving frown on the witch's face. Probably one on the Headmaster's face too. He didn't care. If they were going to harass him later, he would just say he had needed the time to prepare for their precious Potter's lesson. Not that that would be a flat-out lie.

Potter's lesson went badly. Not that he had expected anything else from the boy. Sure, he always pushed him out after a while, but in the meanwhile he showed Severus all his thoughts. He had explained to him over and over again that his emotions were the gateway to his memories. If he could control his emotions, he could control the access to his mind. He could lock up his memories and perhaps even after a while he would be able to fabricate false memories. But stubborn as the boy was, he refused to listen. So he suffered.

Severus felt no compassion; because if he had been a worse person than he was, he could use Potters own thought to immobilize him. It would be so easy, dragging him through his worst memories, reliving every bad moment that had happened to him until he drowned in grief and guilt. But off course he would not do that. He just needed to show him that he could and that the Dark Lord himself would not hesitate for a moment if they ever met eye to eye again. So he dove in yet again, this time looking for memories of anger. Perhaps if Potter drove him out sooner than later he would at least recognize how he had done it. And perhaps he would learn. Severus wasn't holding his breath.

He saw flashes: himself, a detention with Umbridge, loosing his Quidditch privileges, the refrain of _Weasley is our king_, Malfoy calling him a looser, being forced to go back to his Muggle family, and then Petunia calling him a little freak, _just like his mother._

_Petunia__._ The shock of recognizing Lily's sister in that sour old woman was enough to break his concentration. Suddenly he was back in his office again, with Potter staring at him.

"Professor? What happened? That wasn't my doing, wasn't it?" Of all the times, now was the moment the boy choose to use his brain… What to tell him?

Just as he was trying to formulate an acerbic response, they were both startled by someone furiously trying to open the door. "Snape? Why is this door locked?"

"Blasted woman." He muttered through his teeth. He quickly threw his coat over the pensieve; it wouldn't do for her to see that. Picking up a random book from his desk, he threw it at Potter and told him to "Read it." He took his place, lording over Potter from behind, while he drew his wand, pointed it at the door and cast a silent _Alohamora_.

"See that, Potter, you add the quills after you take your cauldrons off the fire. Otherwise it becomes a blubbering mess." He pointed at a random spot in the book, while Potter pretended to pay attention. At least he was quick on the uptake.

With one hard push, Umbridge fell into the room face first.

"Oh dear." He drawled. "Potter, help the lady up." He pushed the boy towards the pink pile of limbs on the floor. Defense teacher? She couldn't even defend herself against a door… He'd laugh if it wasn't so pathetic.

"Are you alright, Professor Umbridge? That door has a pretty nasty habit of getting stuck on cold days."

Umbridge got up with the help of Potter and then quickly pushed him away. While she was brushing of the dust of her clothes, she shot Potter a dirty look. "What are you doing here?"

"Mister Potter is currently failing his Potions classes and is now attending remedial classes. We wouldn't want the golden boy to fall behind."

It was exactly the right thing to say, he noticed. Umbridge was practically beaming when she heard him insulting Potter and Potter himself looked to be seething.

"I presume you want to talk to me in private." At Umbridge's nod he stuffed the book into Potters bag and threw it at him. To his regret, the boy caught it right out the air. Damn Seeker-reflexes.

"Get out, Potter. And don't forget your _homework_ this time."

The boy looked positively exalted to be allowed to leave. If only he were to have a good excuse to leave the Umbridge woman. Instead he invited her over to sit at his desk. This better be good, he thought grimly.


	5. Chapter 5 : New beginnings

**Author's notes:**

First: thank you for the reviews. It's always nice to see people reading and liking your stories. Keep 'em coming, please!

Second: I tried to puzzle the 5th year schedule from the book. I only got Monday's and Tuesday's. But Snape assigns them homework due Thursday, so I assume they have got each subject at least two times per week.

Third: I'm going to try to get at least two chapters out every week. Christmas time has been slow around here, which has been great for reading (I still have to read book 7!) and writing. I hope I can keep writing at this pace. Now that I have got all of the mise-en-place ready, we can get to the action parts…

**Chapter Five**** : New beginnings **

Hermione was glad she was back in Hogwarts. The last few days had passed in a blur. There had been millions of things to do when all she had wanted to do was cry. She had coped by shutting her emotions off during the day (and crying her eyes out by night). Mrs Weasley had been great, Mr Weasley had been quiet and even Snape (her surprise companion) had been sort of nice. But she really needed to be with her friends now and move on with her life.

Their protection act at the table had been nice. She hadn't expected to be the focus of the entire Great Hall and had been intimidated by all the attention. She now understood better than ever how much Harry must detest being stared at. But they had to stop doing it, because they could hardly guard her the rest of the term. So, safely back in the common room, she told the twins they could go of and enjoy their evening. They were currently huddled into a corner discussing improvements on their nosebleed nougat. She was sure they would all see a demonstration soon.

She herself was reading a book, or at least staring at the pages. Ron and Ginny were nearby playing a game of chess. Every now and then her fellow Housemates came over and offered their condolences. It was all very awkward. She didn't question their sincerity. (Even if Lavender's hug did seem kind of forced) It was just… all those platitudes.. they could feel sorry for her until the end of times, it just wouldn't change anything.

And then Neville came over and struggled his way through a heartfelt speech. Hermione couldn't stop a few tears from flowing. They hugged and then Neville very quickly left the room. Worried that he too might be overwhelmed by emotions, she asked Ron to follow him to their bedroom.

"Nah, he'll be fine." Ron waved away her request, focused fully on his knight slaughtering Ginny's bishop.

Before Hermione could blow up because that was just about the most heartless and inexcusable comment she had ever heard, Ginny stopped her.

"No really, Hermione, he's fine. Ever since the Howler reported on the Azkaban escape, Neville has been spending every free moment practicing his spells."

"He's really improved, this last week." Ron added. "Mind, he did wreck our room once or twice."

"I think he wants to take revenge on that Lestrange woman." Ginny whispered, so that no one would hear them. The precaution wasn't necessary. Everyone was giving them a wide berth.

"I guess that makes sense." Hermione admitted, even though she still felt for Neville. "So you think it's best to leave him alone?"

"Leave who alone?" A voice suddenly startled them.

"Harry!" They all yelled out. "Why are you back so soon?"

"Did you kill Snape?" Ron asked hopeful.

"_Professor_ Snape, Ronald." Hermione chastised automatically.

"Our darling Grand Inquisitor interrupted our session. _Professor_ Snape all but threw me out." He winked at Hermione. "How are you holding up, Hermione?"

She forced a smile at him. "I'll be fine." She wasn't, not yet, but she would be. "What did Umbridge want?" She wasn't sure, but she had a strange feeling it had something to do with her.

"I don't know. He made me leave before she told him anything. It was brilliant though: he let her fall right on her face."

"What?" Ron and Ginny exclaimed: "He hexed her?"

Harry shook his head, obviously still reliving the moment with glee. _Boys_, Hermione thought. "He had locked the door, so no one could walk in on us. He then spelled the door open so when she forced it…"

"She fell right in." Ron finished. "That _is_ brilliant! Too bad it was Snape, I'm sorry Hermione, _Professor_ Snape who caused it. I wish I was there to have seen it."

"Me too.." echoed Ginny. Me three, Hermione thought, but she would bite her tongue before admitting it.

"You shouldn't be so hard on Professor Snape, Ronald. He was kind of nice to me last week." She had to tell them sometime that he was now her legal guardian. As Dumbledore once said to Harry: _some things in this school are to be kept secret, so it's only natural everyone will find out_. She didn't mind particularly, as Dumbledore had explained it was a mere formality. She couldn't care less who would sign her report cards as long as she could still spend her summers with the others. But she knew the others wouldn't see it like this. Harry would implode if he heard it from someone else.

They were all looking curiously at her. "Dumbledore send him to help me settle everything in the Muggle world. He was kind of nice." Nice wasn't the exact word to describe it. He just showed up, ignored all the niceties the Weasleys had offered and accompanied her to the solicitor's office, the hospital, the undertaker, … He let her do the talking, but had offered up advice when she had been in doubt. It was obvious he had done all of it before. He hadn't been friendly, he didn't offer any sympathies, but he had been a tremendous help. He had even left his acerbic tongue in Hogwarts and she appreciated that more than anything. He might be a bastard in class, but she had seen a different side to him.

"What does he know about Muggles?" Hermione had to bite her lip not to laugh at the shocked expression on her friends' faces. She was sure hers had been even worse, when Snape had exited the Weasley chimney last week, dressed impeccably in a black Muggle suit. She had been shocked beyond words. Later when he had pushed her inside the hospital cafeteria, because she needed to eat so she wouldn't faint, she had been too afraid to ask him any questions. So later that night, she had asked Mrs Weasley.

"He had a Muggle father." She whispered, knowing all to well this was something that shouldn't be made public knowledge.

"The Head of Slytherin, a Half-blood?" Ron squeaked when his sister hit him in the arm because he was talking too loud.

"So," Ginny said: "If Slytherin only took purebloods, To.. Voldemort would have been a Ravenclaw."

They all exchanged cynical looks. "I guess it doesn't matter. So the git has a heart, it sure won't beat any faster for me."

Hermione thought that Harry wasn't being particularly fair. Snape had saved his live before after all, so he couldn't be completely indifferent to what happened to Harry. But she didn't feel like arguing the point again, not when she still had another bomb to drop. But Ginny beat her to it.

"Hermione? Our mom wrote us a letter to say the school would assign a guardian for you?" The question was clear.

"Yes, Dumbledore made him my guardian." Hermione pre-emptively cringed, but the explosion of indignation she expected never happened.

"Well, it makes sense, doesn't it." Ron offered. "We knew Dumbledore would choose someone from the Order. We just assumed it would be McGonagall."

"And it doesn't really matter. Mom also wrote that you were coming to the Burrow this summer anyhow."

"Who knows, maybe you'll even mellow out him a bit." Harry tried to joke. Hermione noticed that looked very tired and rubbed his scar from time to time.

"Are you alright, Harry?" Hermione was worried.

"Yeah, I'm fine." He waved away her concern. Then he sighed. "I guess I should use this extra time to get my homework finished."

Ron sighed as well: "Yeah, we still got loads for Divination."

"You want some help?" Hermione asked. She had been excused from all the homework she had missed the passed week. For once she was going to take the offer. She really didn't feel like writing a paper on Charms or doing calculations for Professor Vector. But maybe making up ridiculous stuff for Professor Trelawney would cheer her up.

The boys however refused. "We'll be fine. Why don't you finish my game with Ginny?" Ron suggested.

She did and lost pretty spectacularly. Ron's pieces were moaning and yelling at her. "Are you sure you're going to be fine, Hermione?" Ginny asked. "McGonagall told us you did get to say goodbye. But I guess it was still terrible. Not knowing if you'll ever see them again."

"It was." Ginny hugged her and Hermione hugged her back. Harry and Ron might be her best friends, but sometimes it was better to talk to Ginny. They had shared a room this summer, had talked all night, telling each other little childhood secrets and their biggest fears. Ginny had even opened up a little bit about her experience with Tom Riddle's diary. One day, Hermione would tell her about making the choice to make her parents forget her. Or about the fact she was adopted. For now it was good just to be with friends. They played another game.

The next morning Hermione felt a bit more like herself. She enjoyed her Hogwarts breakfast (and quickly squashed the guilt she felt at not having worked for S.P.E.W. for a while now – she'd knit extra hats later). Charms passed quietly. Flitwick was friendly, but luckely didn't treat her that differently than normal.

Transfiguration went well too. She'd missed a class, but most students were still struggling with the spell so she could catch up easily. After class Professor McGonagall called on her and Harry to stay.

She patiently waited until everyone had filed out. Harry even had to sign to Ron to get out, when he saw McGonagall wasn't taking any chances. When they were alone and the door was closed, she first addressed Harry:

"I believe you have something that belongs to Professor Snape?"

Harry looked perplexed for a minute, but then he started rummaging in his bag.

"Here you go, Professor."

"First year Potions, Mr Potter?" Professor McGonagall, raising her right eyebrow slightly.

"Remedial Potions, Professor. Professor Snape is nothing but thorough." Harry said, with a dry tone to his voice. But Hermione thought she had seen a slight flush appearing on his cheeks, just before he realised McGonagall knew exactly what kind of lessons he was taking.

"Well then, off you go." She said to him with a grin.

Harry was obviously torn between leaving and staying behind to support his friend. It was Hermione's turn to gesture her friend away. "See you later." Harry mouthed at her.

"You have a free period now, correct?"

"No. Only 15 minutes, to get to Care of Magical Creatures." One of the few reasonable changes Umbridge had introduced was the adding of time between classes. Ron almost daily complained that now dinner had been delayed by half an hour, but Hermione secretly enjoyed walking instead of running to classes.

"If you're late for Professor Hagrid's class, you just tell him it's my fault."

Hermione translated: if Umbridge kicks up a fuss, tell her to take it up with McGonagall. She suddenly wondered if she'd be as good at reading between the lines if she had gone to a Muggle school. She'd had loads of practice in it during her time at Hogwarts.

"Professor Snape also asked me to talk to you. Firstly: he has signed your Hogsmeade pass, so you can join the next trip out."

Hermione beamed at her. She'd almost forgotten, but Skeeter had answered her letter. Now her plan could continue as planned. "I'll be sure to thank him."

"Secondly. Professor Umbridge had her contacts in the Ministry do research on the Clearwater Rule."

The rule that they had used to make Snape her guardian? What had she found? Was she going to undo it? Oh, no, she wasn't going to… Slightly panicked, Hermione spoke without thinking:

"Please tell me that woman isn't my new guardian?"

Luckily for her, McGonagall found her outburst very funny and had to stifle a laugh.

"No, thank heavens. She agrees that Professor Snape is the best choice of the remaining Heads of Houses." Off course she wouldn't choose Flitwick, Hermione thought, not with her position on purity. "But she wants us to adhere to the letter of the law."

"Which is?" Hermione wished McGonagall would get to the point. Surely nothing could be worse than having that gargoyle as her guardian.

"The law stipulates the guardian should spend time with his ward; to get to know each other better and to counsel the orphan."

"Oh." Oh, was the only thing she could think right then. That was pretty bad too.

"Professor Snape invites you over to his office this Sunday after lunch for tea."

"Oh." Again Hermione was still too perplexed to give a serious answer. Tea with Snape, the least agreeable teacher in the school (not including Umbridge off course). It seemed a bit surreal.

"Hermione?"

"Yes, off course, I'd love too." Hermione answered mechanically, trying to get her thoughts back on track again. It wouldn't be too bad, would it? Snape had been civil to her last week.

"Professor Snape also mentioned that in case of overseeing detentions, he would cancel in time."

Hermione wondered if would be horrid to hope that someone would get into trouble badly this week. Preferably worse enough to earn detentions every Sunday until the end of time. Perhaps if she were to snitch on the twins…

"It will go fine." McGonagall assured her. "You just need to spend some time together in the same room." Hermione thought she saw her professor wink. But McGonagall didn't do winks, did she?

"I suggest you take some homework with you. Just to pass the time." Yep, that definitely was a wink. This had been a week full of teacher-related surprised for her. But the witches' reassurance had worked. Snape and her were just going to have to go to the motions. They could do that.

"I will do that." Hermione said. "Is that all, Professor?" She asked. If she left now, she could still catch up with Ron and Harry before hurrying to Hagrid's hut.

"Officially yes," McGonagall said, and then leaned on her desk. "But unofficially, how are you doing?"

Hermione suppressed the urge to sigh. McGonagall, nice as she was now, wasn't exactly the kind of person one wanted to confide in. She and her friends had been rebuffed several times by the strict woman in the past.

"I'm fine." She said. "Thank you for filling in Harry and the others before I came back." She added as an afterthought. It had made things easier, after all.

"And the other thing?" McGonagall hinted. "How are you feeling about that?"

The adoption. If she could choose, she'd forget all about it and pretend that she had gotten the pendant from her parents as a gift. She certainly treasured the necklace as such. But so far she had stared at it every night, wondering who her biological parents could be. If they had been Muggles or Wizards, why they had given her up, why they had left her in a hospital of all places. She had done the maths: 15 years ago Voldemort at been at the peak of his powers. Had her parents been afraid for their life and had given her away; or had she been the illegitimate child of a Death eater?

"I haven't given it much thought." She tried to sound airily, but McGonagall huffed. Apparently she too was fluent at reading-between-the-lines.

"Have you told your friends?" She asked. Hermione just shook her head.

"Any reason why not?" She then prodded. Hermione shrugged her shoulders. She really didn't want to talk about it.

"Are you afraid they'll think differently of you?"

"They won't." Hermione said, trying to deflect the situation. She was 75% sure of that. When they had found out that Harry had 'inherited' some of Voldemort's traits, they hadn't abandoned him. So whatever was in her past, they wouldn't blame her. It could be awkward for a while, but they could work through it. She just didn't feel like telling them, because there was nothing to tell, not until she knew who she was.

"You don't think any differently of yourself, do you?" her teacher asked worriedly.

"No. Yes. Maybe." Hermione sighed defeated. "I don't know who I am anymore. The last 5 years, I've been Hermione Granger, Muggle-born witch that tries her best to outsmart any Pureblood."

"And you still are. You might not be Muggle-born, and I stress _might_, but you were still Muggle-raised, weren't you? And from what I saw, you were raised by outstanding Muggles." Hermione smiled at the compliment directed at her parents.

"I thought you knew blood isn't everything." McGonagall was right, Hermione knew. But all the knowledge in the world didn't change the sickening feeling she had deep down in her stomach.

"But what if my parents were … were…" Death eaters. Or if her mother had been the victim of a Death eater attack… She couldn't say the words, but McGonagall understood.

"There is no reason to assume the worst, Hermione." She said. "There is even no real reason to assume that they were Wizards. You wouldn't be the first Muggle-born with great magical powers."

But there was still a chance, wasn't there? And as long as she didn't know, she would worry. Hermione knew she was really bad at not knowing something…

McGonagall let out a sigh that was part pity, part concern but also part disappointment.

"Look Hermione. Whoever your parents were, they didn't leave you just anywhere. They brought you to a hospital, what means that they wanted you to be _safe._ There could be a thousand reasons for them to have abandoned you, but that simple fact tells me they wanted a good life for you. A better one than they could have provided for you."

Hermione was perplexed. With a few words McGonagall had turned her entire thought process upside down. She had only focussed on the worst, but the other witch was right: they had wanted her to end up in a nice family. And that she had. She smiled at her teacher, but the smile soon turned bittersweet. She had lost her real family, hadn't she?

The noise in the hallway alerted them both that the next class of students had arrived. McGonagall checked her pocket watch. "Oh dear me," she exclaimed, "I didn't realise it was that late yet. I shall have to write you a note."

While she was writing, the first students knocked and started to file in. Hermione recognised them as Gryfindor and Hufflepuff second years. They stared at her and she in turn tried her best to ignore them. Luckily McGonagall soon passed her the note.

"Thank you." Hermione said. "For everything." She added, hoping that her teacher knew she wasn't talking about the ruddy note.

She quickly left, knowing she'd be terribly late for class. She didn't dare to run in the hallways, in case Filch or Miss Norris were prowling around. But as soon as she reached the courtyard she sprinted as fast as she could.

And behold, there between the black student cloaks and the giant figure of Hagrid, she spotted a blur of pink. Why was that woman always there, she suddenly thought angrily. Sure, Hagrid wasn't the best teacher (neither was she herself), but he tried. And there was a difference between checking up on a teacher and outright stalking him.

She stopped running and walked closer, trying to get her breathing under control. "I'm so sorry, Professor Hagrid." She said, adding the honorific just to spite Umbridge, Hagrid had never demanded it. "But Professor McGonagall kept me after class." As she suspected, Hagrid waved her apologies away and told her to join her friends.

Before Umbridge could hum-hum her way into the conversation, Hermione stuffed the note into her hands and then joined Harry and Ron. They were curious what McGonagall had told her. "Not now." She whispered.

Umbridge had followed her. "So Miss Granger. This note tells me you were discussing the homework you missed last week."

Hermione nodded slowly, inwardly cursing herself for not reading the note herself, so she was prepared for any questions.

"I think that's a marvellous idea." Umbridge cackled on. "I think I might ask you to do the same. Why don't you ask your friend Potter about the homework you have missed. And now that I think of it, why don't you copy the chapters that you missed during class, say three times. We wouldn't want you to fall behind, wouldn't we? It is the OWL-year after all. I'll give you a week." She tottered of, not waiting for a response.

The entire class was looking at her in contempt. Even Pansy Parkinson, the girl who had hated Hermione for years, was now looking at Umbridge in disbelief. Luckily, Hermione thought, everyone was keeping a close lid on their anger (though she swore she heard Sean mutter 'heartless cow' under his breath), because she was having trouble keeping herself from hexing the damned woman. The nerve of her, getting back at McGonagall and the Gryffindor house by picking on her!

She hadn't even noticed her hand had inched closer to where her wand was hidden, until Ron stopped her. "She's not worth it." He said. "Yeah." Harry added. "We'll help you with the copying."

She smiled at her friends. "Don't worry. I can manage."

After all, she needed to have something to do this Sunday, when she had her 'date' with Snape.

_Next chapter: _

Dumbledore muses over the pendant and over a newly made prophesy. Hermione gets ready for the first meeting with Snape. Draco … Draco is being his usual teenage pratt-y self.

Please read and review!


	6. Chapter 6 : Prophesies and potions

_Author's notes:_

_1. Change of POV somewhere in the middle. First Dumbledore, who knows more then he is willing to share, then Hermione. _

_2. Hogwarts' topography is complicated. But for the sake of the story, I assume that Snape's classroom (classrooms?) is close to his office and to his private ingredients' storage. _

* * *

**Chapter 6 : Prophesies and potions**

Albus retreated into his office after dinner. Dolores Umbridge's running commentary on how _his_ school needed to be run was enough to ruin any man's appetite, but he had many others things on his mind fighting for his attention. Still, he thought as Fawkes flew from his perch to sit on his shoulder, he'd better vent his frustrations because he needed a clear head before continuing.

"Fudge knew what he was doing, sending that woman to us. One more night of listening to her complaints and I just might quit out of desperation." He explained to the bird, as he always did when he was in doubt. Nobody knew he considered Fawkes his best friend (they thought him mad enough already without that knowledge), but he could tell him everything, without the risk of him blabbing.

"Honestly, rules about the amount of inches of space allowed between boy and girl students? I have several decades on the woman and I'm not even half the prude she is." He sighed in frustration.

Fawkes cooed in answer. Dumbledore thought he even sounded a bit sad. But then again Fawkes was the last of his kind and the chance he would find a girl to snuggle up with was little. And he was in his teenage years right now, Albus assessed. The bird had mood swings and he spent an entirely unhealthy amount of time grooming his feathers. Albus petted him on the head with compassion.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't nag. If it's any consolation, I'm sure Fudge will find some excuse to sack me soon and than we won't have to worry about her anymore."

Resigned he walked over to his Pensieve. "I've got work to do." Fawkes obediently flew back to his perch.

He went over the cabinet with the copies of his own memories, ignoring those he had collected of others for now. He had gotten no new information for a while and knew he would get no further on his investigation on Tom Riddle's past tonight. It was something else that was troubling him now. He reached for the two tiny bottles labeled "Prophesy Trelawney" The first, that he had heard about 16 years ago, he set back into the cabinet. He knew that one by heart, especially the last ominous part "_and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives._" It was the newer one he was interested in.

Sybill had sprung this one on him after the first teachers' meeting of the year, just before school started. If only, he mused dryly, Dolores had been present then, then Sybill wouldn't face expulsion now, for not being a true Seer. He put the memory in the Pensieve and watched it unfold again.

_Albus wondered why Sybill__ lingered when the others had already left. Normally she was the first to leave, to retreat into the tower that had been her home all those years. Naturally she was worried about her position here, now that the Ministry would send one of their own, clearly to come investigate them all. He mentally prepared himself to calm a distraught woman. _

_But then she surprised him with the same hoarse voice he had once heard in the Hog's Head: _"The one who lost his family long ago, will reclaim a piece of it this year. This will happened at a great cost to his friends, who he will betray. Much knowledge will be lost, but lost knowledge will be found. And the war draws closer."

_As sudden as the change had come over her, it disappeared and Sybill was left standing in his office, confused. "Oh, Albus, I think I'll retire now, I don't feel to well. Must be the influence of Mars this time of year."_

At the time he had assumed it had been about Harry. Just like the first prophesy. Not that that one had been about Harry in the first place, but Voldemort had made it so. Albus refused to believe in prophesies, certainly not in those who condemned a mere boy to fight to the death. So he had never told Harry (or anyone else for that matter). But Voldemort was forcing the issue, just like he had when Harry was a boy. And he would keep coming. The fool was going to fulfill a prophesy he didn't even know all the words too. That was the only power these words had: the power of belief in them.

So this time, he hadn't warned the Ministry and he had told no one. If no one knew and no one believed, no one would manipulate the facts and none of it would come to pass. No betrayal, no loss of knowledge, and time to prepare Harry before the war started.

Maybe he had cheated a bit by ordering Sirius to stay indoors at any cost. He knew that Sirius was desperate to reconnect to his Godson, but he wanted to postpone that. Sirius was restless, even reckless. If they spent to much time together maybe Harry _would_ betray his friends, not because he wanted to, but because he made a a foolish mistake. He had even kept his own distance to Harry. Mostly because of Voldemort's link to the boys mind, but perhaps he was reluctant to play a part in Harry's assembled family.

But now there is Miss Hermione Granger, to consider. Her worries were founded, off course. Voldemort was still biding his time, regrouping, forming his army and desperate to get his hands on the prophesy. But it would only be a matter of time before his reign of terror would begin anew. It was in his blood to do so. And the Grangers, plain decent Muggles, would be on the top of their list. So he had supported the plan to relocate them. And in turn he had learned something interesting.

He touched the tip of his wand to his temple and allowed the memory to flow out. It was just a snapshot, so in no time he was staring at the pendant floating in the Pensieve. A very simple silver rectangle, with swan engraved on it. Only if you looked real closely you could see a crown around the animal's neck, like she had once worn it, but it had slipped over her head and sagged down. Albus sighed and prodded the liquid so the memory would disappear.

He had seen the pendant before. Last week he had convinced Minerva that he wasn't sure (and fooled himself in passing). Now he had seen the pendant again in the Pensieve, it was time to be honest to himself. Severus had lied to him.

Another few flicks of his wand later, he found himself further back into time.

_Poppy had called him into __the infirmary to talk to a second year Slytherin she was worried about. Albus hadn't noticed him before, the student population was plenty, and Slughorn only ever talked about his honor students. Never about his problem students. _

_  
And indeed, it seemed like they had a problem on their hands. Tthe bruises that were visible, now the boy was scowling at him wearing only a grey sleeveless undershirt and worn__ pyjama__ pants, looked rather nasty. But the boy swore up and down they came from a Quidditch practice, he had been invited to join. He refused to implicate other boys, nor from his own house, nor from others. And when Albus tried him to open up about his home situation the boys lips clammed shut. _

As present-day-Albus listened his younger self console the younger Severus "_It's allright, I won't press any further. But remember my door, or that of professor Slughorn is always open_" he inched closer to the pendant that rested on the boy's chest. Besides the fact it then hung from a leather lace instead of a silver necklace, it was the very same.

With yet another sigh he left the memory. Although it had confirmed his suspicions, he didn't feel any better. He felt a small amount of anger at Severus for lying at him, even more fear that it wasn't the only thing he had lied about to him and a large portion of guilt.

After that particular night, he had promised Poppy he'd keep an eye out for the boy. They did cross paths many times after. He could forgive the boys (whatever Severus said, he knew very well that James Potter and Sirius Black had been equally to blame) for their interhouse grudges and fights. But then Severus had found out his little secret (named Remus Lupin) and had forced Albus to take a side. To this day he stood by his decision: Remus had turned out a fine wizard and he had deserved his education. But it had broken the already fragile trust between him and an angry boy, who had turned out a competent wizard as well. And than Severus had been lured over to the dark side, where his talents had been used for the worst.

So when Severus had come to him, many years later, he had been a little surprised that the young man would confide in him. He had listened to his story and had seen into his mind and his memories. Severus had been honest to him, he was certain of it. Severus might have been a natural Occlumens (and they had worked hard at perfecting his skills), but Albus knew he had not been lying to him. He had shown him painful memories, memories and feelings that could not have been altered.

Severus had told him he had loved Lily and did not want her or her child to be hurt in the war. He had had doubts before, but when his Master ordered his troupes to find an one-year old child, to he could kill it, he couldn't comply. He no longer believed (he had never truly believed) that Muggles or Muggleborns were lesser life forms than himself.

Albus' trust in those memories and in Severus himself had been unwavering the last 16 years. But now it was faltering. Severus had held something (something big) back from him. What else had he kept secret? Had he truly reformed?

No, he couldn't start doubting him. That night, when Severus had promised to do everything in his power to help the Order and had sworn to obey Albus, Albus had promised him his own help in return. He had also promised to trust Severus. And he would so now. He would _trust_ that Severus word was good and that he was on the Order's side.

But just in case, taking in account the chance the prophesy could be about Severus and not Harry (what would make the 'betraying his friends'-bit even more horrific to think about), Albus decided not to _entrust_ Severus with the truth about Miss Granger's past.

The only ones that knew that Miss Granger had been adopted were now herself, himself, Minerva, Alastor and Miss Tonks. And off course all the people Miss Granger would tell.

He smiled humorlessly; the chance that Miss Granger would ever confide in Severus, the dreaded potion's professor was abysmally small. Severus had been in his office Monday night, right after his meeting with Umbridge, fuming about the new arrangement. No one had been happy with the interference of the _High Inquisitor_. He himself would have liked to keep Severus guardianship pro forma. But he didn't have to worry, only trust that Severus' bitter nature would keep the girl at arm's length.

Albus cleared the Pensieve and his memories away. He still had this year's budgets to look over, so he went to sit at his desk, ignoring the feeling deep down in his guts. _It felt awfully like he was betraying the little bruised boy. Again. _

* * *

That Sunday morning Hermione sat on her bed, surrounded by the memories she had taken from her house. Yes, it was _her_ house now, she realized with a shock_._ She had only taken a few items. Her old toy Bunny, a few photo albums, her mother's favorite book, her father's reading glasses (_he'd have to buy new ones, wherever he was now_) and a framed picture.

The picture had been a last-minute impulse. She had only spotted it when she and Snape were about to floo back to the Weasleys for the last time. He had already given her ample time to decide which items she wanted take with her, while he waited in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a slice of the cake her neighbor had brought over that morning.

She'd been surprised, because she'd never seen that picture before. It was of her and her parents, all mesmerized by the game of Scrabble they were playing. Snape had just sighed, grabbed the picture and told her to pack it in her bag so they could leave. She grinned at the memory, it had been the only time Snape had been recognizable as himself whilst assisting her.

She didn't even remember the picture being taken. But now she had the time to study it, she recognized the cozy lounge of the hotel they had stayed in France. One of their fellow travelers must have sent it to them and her mother must have finally gotten around to frame it.

Hermione heard footsteps up the stairs to their dorm and rolled her eyes. She had told her roommates to tell Harry and Ron not to expect her for breakfast. So naturally, now they had eaten, they would send someone up to check on her.

"Hi Ginny." She said when the red-headed girl entered. "I'll be down in a minute." She quickly stuffed the pink rabbit under her pillow and started to clear away the rest. Ginny sat down next to her, taking the picture in her hands. "Your parents seemed really nice."

Ginny had only met them once, Hermione remembered, right before her dad and Draco's dad went at each other. And Draco's dad had planted Voldemort's diary on Ginny. _Happy memories_, she thought bitter, but she answered with a smile. "They were."

She had packed everything away in her trunk, but she kept the book, Agatha Christie's '_One, two, buckle my shoe'_, in her hands and showed it to her friend.

"It's my mother's favorite book." She explained to Ginny. "Not because of the story, but because it was the first gift my father ever gave her. They took the same classes at University and my dad had a crush on her. So when they were both invited to the same Christmas party, he wanted to give her a book, because she was always reading between classes. Only he's rubbish at books, he only ever reads the paper, so he ended up buying this detective story." She showed her the cover of the book. "Because it has a dentist's chair on the front." Ginny nodded confused, clearly thinking the chair looked more like a torture chair.

Hermione ignored her. "My mom thought it was sweet that he had tried, so she said she'd go on _one_ date with him."

"That's so sweet!" Ginny gushed. "Our mum and dad got together at Hogwarts, so he probably asked her out like Michael Corner did me." Her good mood faltered.

"And that was?" Hermione knew Ginny had had her eye on the Ravenclaw boy for a while, but hadn't know they had gotten together.

"A note during class..." Ginny sounded really sullen. What did she have to complain about, thought Hermione bemused. Boys were falling left and right at her feet and all she had was the memory of Viktor, who couldn't even pronounce her name right. He still send letters, though.

"Let's go down, before the boys become worried." She then said, stuffing the book in her bag. She planned on reading it during her _assigned time_ with Snape. Her homework for the next week was already finished, she only had two more chapters to copy for Umbridge. But she'd die before she was going to write punishment-like lines in the presence of Snape. It already felt like detention, she wasn't going to add to the feeling. The book was a better option.

Down in the common room, Ginny quickly joined her own friends who were playing a game of exploding snap. The 5th and the 7th year students were looking at the game with a mixture of disgust and jealousy before returning to their books.

Hermione sat down next to Harry on the couch that he was occupying. She had planned on rereading her third year Charms notes (one could never start preparing for the OWL's too early), but instead she spent her morning correcting Harry's and Ron's History of Magic essays.

* * *

Lunch had been a quiet business, Hermione mused. Harry and Ron were careful not to mention her coming appointment with Snape (they had already fought about it, it hadn't been pretty). They had chosen to lunch early, which had been a good choice. The few students that were already present, had stared at her. At least, the Gryffindors and the Slytherins were: her own housemates looked like they were going to offer their condolences again (which would be ridiculous as had she explained to Harry and Ron: Snape wouldn't dare harm her.) and the Slytherins looked mad at her (as if any of this had been her choice). The rest couldn't care less, apparently and suddenly Hermione wished she had been a Ravenclaw like the Hat had suggested.

Quickly finishing her soup, she walked down to the dungeons. She wanted to get this first time over with, so she knew what to expect next time. She had even doubted what she was supposed to wear. Her uniform would be a good choice, she had thought first. But then she realized she would look stupid wandering about the castle on a Sunday in her school outfit. That and reminding Snape that she was a Gryffindor was perhaps not the best move she could make. So she had compromised and wore black trousers and a grey sweater. She did bring her school cloak, because she knew it could get cold down there.

To her surprise, Snape wasn't in his office. But she heard noises coming from the classroom two doors further. When she checked, she saw that it was Snape, setting up several cauldrons on one large wooden table: two on one side, 5 on the other. Was he giving a private class later? But he was already lighting the fire under them. And there were only two workstations, with a cutting board and knives, prepared.

"Miss Granger, close the door." He said, without looking up. Hermione complied and set her bag on the first workbench she passed. Snape motioned for her to come closer.

"So, Miss Granger. I assume you are as happy to be here as I am." Honesty, disguised as sarcasm, Hermione mused. Not what she had expected. Treading carefully, she only flashed a small smile at him. She remembered the line American officers always used on the telly: _'Anything you say, can and will be held against you.'_

"The Headmaster suggested we used this time productively." Snape continued, ignoring her. "Normally I use my Sundays to catch up with my grading. Or I make potions for the infirmary." Hermione nodded. She had expected that and that was why she had brought along things to amuse herself with.

"Seeing that you are not an incompetent Potions' student, you could join me."

Was that a compliment? Had Snape, who almost never awarded points or compliments to any student, let alone a Gryffindor, just paid her a compliment?

"Yes or no, Miss Granger?" He sounded impatient. Hermione hurried over to what she guessed was her workstation (the one with two cauldrons). _How was she going to manage two potions at once?_ She looked over the ingredients that were laid out for her: dried nettles, snake fangs and porcupine quills. Her mood fell.

"Boil cure potion?" That was a first year potion. And not even a difficult first year one.

"Thank Misters Weasley. Matron Pomfrey has been treating several candy-related boil and pustule outbursts."

Beggars can't be choosers, Hermione chastised herself and resigned herself to the boil cure potion. She glanced at Snape's ingredients, expecting to see more exotic plants and pieces. She was disappointed. He had largely the same stuff as her, only with some added plants and eggs.

"There are textbooks in the back if you need to reread the recipe." Snape suggested.

"I can manage, Sir." She answered dryly and got to work. She would show him. First she checked her equipment and went to prepare her ingredients. Surprised she looked up and saw that Snape hadn't started too. Instead he was looking at her intently. "Yes?" He asked, with an emotionless face that gave Hermione the collywobbles.

"I'm missing stewed horned slugs." She said and when he smirked, she felt like she had just passed some kind of odd test. Or not…

He tossed her a key. "The student cupboard is out. You'll have to use my personal storage room."

When she didn't answer (she was too shocked), he sarcastically went on: "Please don't insult my intelligence, Miss Granger. We both know you know exactly where it is." Ah, not a test then, Hermione thought, but pay back. But she still wasn't able to voice her thoughts out loud.

"Does a rather failed Polyjuice experiment come to mind?" He continued. "Don't worry, the Headmaster then decided your feline looks were punishment enough and I wouldn't dream of contradicting the Headmaster. I just wanted to remind you not to take your talents in Potions for granted. Accidents happen when people get cocky." He was smiling by now, but not very nicely.

Hermione was fuming. How dare he? "It didn't fail!" She stated emphatically, just before she remembered Snape wasn't supposed to know about their break-in into the Slytherin Common room.

"It didn't?" Snape asked, "I didn't know you intended to become a cat. Did you want to see what it was like to be an Animagus? Like Professor McGonagall?"

"I used a cat's hair by mistake." She knew she was playing a dangerous game, but her pride got the better of her. "It worked just fine for Ro.." She coughed trying to cover up her mistake.

"Mister Weasley and Mister Potter I presume." Snape looked straight at her, and she quickly looked at the floor, scared that he was going to read her thought. _Or did he need a wand for that?_ Unfortunately he took this as an admission. "And did the transformation last for an hour?"

Hermione nodded, she could hardly take it back now. Expecting more questions, about who they impersonated and _what the hell did they think they were doing_, she braced herself for impact. It never came.

When she dared to look up, Snape was staring at her appraisingly. He then seemed to make a decision and turned around to grab a box.

"Put your ingredients aside, Granger. You'll use these."

They were the same as he had in front of himself. Hermione quickly unpacked the box. "What are we making, Sir?" Hermione was curious. She knew all the ingredients, but she had never used them in this combination, nor had she read about it.

"Just follow my lead." And he began cutting the lime grass. Hermione complied.

The next few hours were spent in relative quiet. Snape only spoke to relay instructions or criticism (_smaller pieces, Miss Granger_ or _your fire is going out, Miss Granger_). While she fumbled with controlling two potions at once (helping Neville out apparently wasn't the same as doing twice the work), Snape managed 5 cauldrons at once. She observed in awe as he flawlessly glided from left to right and back again.

They were both sweating from the heat of the seven fires. Hermione had quickly taken her sweater of, but Snape looked like he was boiling in his heavy black frock coat. She could guess why he wouldn't take it off, he didn't want her to see his Dark Mark. As he wiped his forehead with a sleeve again, she couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

Suddenly he ordered her to put out the fires and to stand back. She obeyed, but was confused. She still hadn't figured out what potion this was and couldn't believe it was done. "Further, Miss Granger." She took two more steps back. She still wanted to be close to see what would happen next.

But Snape sighed annoyed and ordered her to go stand by the door. Hermione complied reluctantly, but didn't have to wait long for the show to start. Snape produced his wand, waved it mumbling some words, she couldn't understand from where she was standing, and the cauldrons burst aflame. Hermione was mesmerized by the strange grey flames, never having seen anything like it. They soon died out and the room filled with smoke.

The smell reached her and she recognized it immediately. "Pepper-up potion."

"Surprisingly easy to make, but the Ministry rather not have the general populace set flames to their own homes every winter. The finishing spell is restricted and without it, the potion is useless."

Hermione nodded. Snape ignored her. "When the flames go out, we can bottle it. You can prepare the labels." He started clearing the worktables.

Fifteen minutes later the first crate was filled. Snape checked his watch and said to Hermione: "It's late already. If you deliver this crate to the infirmary and tell Matron Pomfrey the rest will arrive shortly, you're free to go."

Hermione politely said her thanks and goodbye, that Snape waved off, before setting off. She wanted to hurry, because the session had taken much longer than the planned hour of so and she suspected that her friends were worried. She herself was tired, but happy. Snape had let her brew a restricted potion! Off course, she didn't know the spell, so the knowledge was useless. But still, Snape had trusted her not to mess up. It was an enormous compliment. Ron would probably call it advanced detention, she realized with a smile.

Unfortunately she wasn't paying attention to her surroundings, what she should have done in the Slytherin dungeons. A familiar voice called out her name.

"Hey Granger! What are you doing here?" _Draco_. Hermione froze. Her hands were occupied and her wand was stashed safely in her bag. Before she could drop the crate (which Snape would kill her for), Draco could have hexed her five times. She was stuck…

TBC

* * *

I'm not a tease who'll make you wait 2 weeks for the rest… Chapter 7 is written, but still needs to be revised. Tomorrow, or the day after. I promise. Please review.


	7. Chapter 7 : Snape's memories

**Author's notes: **

- In part two of this chapter I fast forward a few weeks / a month to Potter's dive into Snape's worst memory.

- I bought "Sweeney Todd" on DVD this week. I had to turn it off, because it was just too strange watching Snape and Wormtail singing about getting shaved after seeing Bellatrix trying to seduce a very pale and subdued Captain Jack Sparrow with badly made pastries. Using big name actors isn't always the best choice…

I did get a kick out of seeing Alan Rickman traumatising the poor sailor boy by saying to him: "You gandered at my ward. You gandered at her. Yes sir, you gandered.", before plain out threatening him.

"My" Snape is equally protective of his ward, but certainly _not attracted _to his ward. ;)

* * *

**Chapter 7**** : Snape's memories **

Severus was filling the next batch of bottles with the newly brewed potion. He didn't bother to test Granger's, he had followed her every move and knew that it was fine.

He heard a commotion from the hallway and went to the door to listen.

"I see that _your guardian_ put you to work." Draco sneered. "Off course he knows that Mudbloods should be used as House-elves."

Snape didn't have to see his ward, to know she was seething. Best to diffuse the situation as soon as possible, before he had a fight on his hands.

He glided into the hallway, folded his arms and shot them both a bored look as if he was chastising a set of toddlers for fighting over a toy _again_. Actually, the constant quibbling between his House and McGonagall's was getting tiresome. It had been slightly better before, but Potter and Malfoy had unburied the battle-axe with vigour as soon as they had entered the school five years ago.

"If you could kindly let Miss Granger pass, Mister Malfoy, I have worked hard on those potions and I'd prefer they reached the infirmary in one piece."

Granger got the message and scurried of. Smart girl. "Draco, follow me."

He walked back into the classroom, knowing Draco would follow him, however reluctant he. And he did, closing the door behind him.

"I have told you and the other prefects last week that Granger is now my ward and therefore under my protection. Did you not grasp the concept?" He chastised him.

Draco shrugged his shoulders. "I think it sucks, you having to take care of a Mudblood. Couldn't Flitwick take her in?" He wined, sounding as if he were 5 again.

"First of all, you know how I feel about that word."

"If I have to childishly call people names, I should at least be original." Draco droned off. Severus smirked. It was a line he had set hundreds if not more of his students, including Draco. He could not have his Slytherins go around and call everyone Mudbloods or Bloodtraitors all the time. It would be embarrassing for his House.

"Second, the Inquisitor herself appointed me." It was a slight lie, but then again she did approve of Dumbledore's decision. "You know very well that we have to keep the Ministry content." Or at least pretend to. Appearances are everything for a Slytherin. Follow the rules, but find the loopholes. Be friendly to most, because you might need him someday. Fight with honour, but make sure you win. Those were the rules his students (and himself lived by) and those rules made it easy for him to understand and influence them.

Draco nodded reluctantly. Severus resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"I still have to bottle the rest."

"You need help?" Draco asked and Severus was reminded of the little boy that used to roam through Malfoy Manor looking for things to do. He had been a sweet boy, eager to help even the House-elves, but years of Lucius' better-than-thou-attitude had spoiled him. He had hoped that spending time in his House would have changed him a bit, but alas. He was still his favourite though and he felt compelled to let him help, so they could spend some time together.

"Homework?" He questioned.

"Finished. And Quidditch practice was cancelled." He added so Severus didn't have to ask.

"Crabbe and Goyle?"

"Practicing Charms with Pansy."

"Good." Severus was glad that his students were still sticking together even though he now had less time to check up on them. He made a note to set a meeting with his prefects later that week. And perhaps even to check up on his first years. He signed Draco to start decanting the potion.

"Is this Pepper-up?" Draco asked curious, when he smelled the potion. "I thought the infirmary bought this stuff?" Severus felt a small twinge of pride. But it was quickly replaced by regret. The Granger girl had been equally exited. If it hadn't been for _Blood_ sensitivity and prejudice, the both of them could have been friends, no matter which House they belonged to. _Like him and Lily…_

"If we needed to buy every potion the average student drinks, the school would be broke within the year." He sneered more harshly then he had intended, but Draco laughed.

They worked together in a comfortable silence.

* * *

The next few weeks went by quietly. Between his duties for the Order, the Dark Lord and the school, he managed to guide his students. He held career talks with his fifth and seventh years, long before the assigned date (he didn't need the other teacher's comments for this). They were honest to him and talked freely about their desires to become Ministry Officials, business men, Quidditch players and so. One boy even expressed an interest in Dragon Care. Hagrid's madness was spreading, he thought, but he arranged a floo talk with Charlie Weasley nonetheless. He encouraged his students to make up their own minds.

No one talked eagerly about taking the Dark Mark, which was a relief for him. For now the Dark Lord wanted to keep his return quiet, preferring to build his armies first (the Ministry was playing right into his hands by not acknowledging Potter's word). It meant he didn't have to recruit just yet and he hoped that time would be far in the future. Sending children to war wasn't his wish.

He had only met the Dark Lord once since the Summer Holiday. It had been a unusually quiet meeting: he had knelt down at his Master's feet, relayed his new information (which was sparse to say the least) and was dismissed without further questions. Severus did meet Lucius often, to discuss Hogwarts and the Ministry over dinner. No one doubted his loyalty to the Dark Lord's cause.

Not even Harry Potter, the Boy-who-lived himself. That was getting a bit annoying. The boy refused to take his orders and to learn Occlumency properly. He wasn't improving, in fact if it were possible, Severus would say he was getting worse every week. He still had the dreams and Severus feared he would soon see the truth, or, even worse, the Dark Lord would break through.

Severus had warned the Headmaster of this off course, but the old man pretended to be deaf and blind for everything that concerned Harry Potter's problems. Off course the School had her own problems. Umbridge's takeover had been getting more and more successful and finally, thanks to Potter's little Defense club (not that he could oppose the idea of such a club), she had crowned herself Headmistress. Severus paid her every respect that her title owed her. He even made Veratiserum (a very watered down version) at her request and soon became her favourite teacher and Head of House.

It didn't mean he respected her. Her shrilly voice grated on his nerves and her insistence that the Dark Lord was dead, had long ceased to be amusing. Several times per week he now had to battle the instinct to bare his arm and to shove her face to his Dark Mark to show how mistaken she was. It even made his enjoyment of her treatment of Potter impossible.

Like when she had ranted and raved about Potter's article in the Quibbler and how he had broadcasted his _lies._ Potter was many things: a troublemaker, an arrogant seeker, a constant source of annoyance, but he was not a liar, and he was certainly not the brains behind that operation.

That honour lied solely with his ward. Pride wasn't the emotion he felt, but nevertheless he was impressed by the young woman. Like so many of the other teachers he wondered how she had managed it. She wasn't rich enough to bribe the Skeeter woman (he had seen her finances) and she didn't seem ruthless enough for blackmail. But then again. She had surprised hem before.

Their Sunday afternoons together also went surprisingly well. The girl didn't try to waste his time with mindless chatter, as he had feared. Instead she eagerly worked on the potions he had to make, or she brought a book to read while he graded. The only conversations they ever had, had been about the weather, potions ingredients, the OWL's examination (the girl actually feared failing…), and quiet places in Hogwarts to study. It suited him just fine.

* * *

It was turning out to be a very bad night for him, he should have known that the minute Draco interrupted their Occlumency session. He would have chastised the boy for just barging in (his prefects knew the trick to opening the door) but he had done so with good cause: an emergency. Still, if he had entered a few seconds later it would have been a disaster. Severus didn't know if Draco had been trained by his family about Occlumency and/or Legilimency, but pointing a wand at a student didn't exactly read as 'remedial potions'. And despite his reputation for being a bastard teacher, he had never attacked a student physically.

In his relief, and subsequent worry for Montague he had stormed out of his office, forgetting one of the many rules he lived by: _never, ever, leave a Potter alone with anything that a) can explode, b) is of value, c) is personal. _

Off course by the time he had returned Potter had stuck his nose (and his head) into something he had no business with. Cursing, he counted to ten (it did nothing to calm him) before he dove in after him. There were more than one memory floating around in the Pensieve and unfortunately he needed to know which one the boy was visiting. If Potter saw his initiation into the Dark Lord's service or the truth about why he was to keep away from the Ministry, Snape would have to take drastic measures.

Luckily Potter's psyche had sought out the memory with both his parents, his godfather and the dratted werewolf in it. Severus didn't feel relieved however. He arrived just in time to hear himself call Lily _'a filthy little Mudblood' _and effectively destroy the last vestiges of friendship they had struggled to hold on to. His stomach turned inside out and he stood frozen, while the scene folded out further in front of him. Lily had never forgiven him and he had never even tried to apologise. Instead he had thrown himself further into the _friendship_ his fellow Slytherins offered in exchange for his talents.

As Lily left, he was hoisted back into the air, with the added humiliation of his own spell being used against him. He heard Potter's and Black's taunt and suddenly all the taunts and wounds he had suffered at those two's hand rushed back into his mind. Anger flooded his senses and only because of years of training his emotions, he was able to address Potter Junior instead of violently throwing him out of his memories.

His restraint didn't last however, and the next thing he knew he had grabbed the boy by the collar. In his years as a teacher he had inspired many emotions in his students, fear being on top of that list. Potter wasn't just afraid, he was terrified. But there was something else underneath that was unfamiliar. Pity? The boy pitied him?

That only infuriated him more. It was worse enough he had to constantly cope with the mutt and the werewolf in the Order, who just loved to remind him of their shared past. He had spent years designing this persona of a man not to be messed with, preferring being hated over being pitied. Now Potter had seen a glimpse of the pathetic _boy_ he once was…

"You will not tell anyone what you saw." He threatened him, shaking the boy for good measure.

The pity soon faded away, leaving the terror to increase tenfold. _Good_.

"No. Off course not." Severus let him go, causing him to fall over his own feet.

"Get out." He yelled. "This was your last lesson." He couldn't afford another catastrophe like this.

Potter quickly got to his feet and ran out the door. The anger was still flowing through his veins and he picked up the nearest specimen jar, cockroaches he noted, and threw it after the boy. His common sense had returned however and he aimed high. Having to explain how the boy-who-lived got hurt in his presence would prove to be_ difficult_.

Alone again, he noted with dismay that he now had yet another mess to clean up. An _Evanesco _took care of the bugs and with a _Reparo_ the glass jar was whole again in his hands. It was as if nothing had happened. _Like Magic_. Too bad it couldn't fix every mistake.

Frustrated he felt like hurling the jar against another wall. But he restrained himself. It wouldn't do any good anyway. He set the jar back on his desk, making a note to ask Hagrid to procure some more roaches. He could do it himself, but the Gamekeeper insisted on helping him out with the creature-like ingredients for his potions. He allowed it because it was convenient.

With his wand he closed and locked the door. Only then he allowed himself to hang his head and sigh deeply. Why did these things keep happening to him? As on cue, his Dark Mark tinged, as if to remind him of past mistakes he would keep having to pay for. He had sworn that he would, and he never took a promise lightly.

As for Potter, he realised, the problem would resolve itself. He would just have to pay _extra attention_ to him the next couple of days during class, reminding him of the vindictive adult Snape could be and not of pathetic little Snivellus. His teenage temperament would not allow him to pity Severus when he blindly hated him. As for the discontinuance of his _remedial _classes. If anyone asked he could point out the OWL's were on their way and Potter needed time to concentrate on those.

Come to think of it, he could use the same excuse to lessen his sessions with his ward. He did not have a problem with her, but he could easily imagine the regularly respectful student transforming into a vengeful lioness, if she thought her best friend threatened. Cutting back the Sunday afternoons to once a week would give her the time to cool down, before she said anything she would regret to him. No one would mind. He snorted, they would probably be glad for the girl.

The only thing he now needed to do, was to clear away the Pensieve and store it safely for Dumbledore. He did not enjoy using it, but the Headmaster had been right in lending it to him. During Legilimency the caster was often vulnerable to a counterattack. Saving the memory in the Pensieve did not remove it entirely from yourself, but it made it duller and therefore harder to find. The only problem was, when he put the memories back, the feeling flood back with them.

These last few weeks he had settled into a routine. He always started with the good memories, those of meeting Lily, of meeting Rose. He could never enjoy those to the fullest, however, because he knew what still followed. Random scenes of Death eatership: his initiation, returning eagerly with a part of the prophesy to return into His graces, the news that Lily died. The vow he had made to Dumbledore. The subsequent Order meetings, where he was treated as a pariah. The few weeks he had spent in Azkaban, that was the worst memory. Not because of the cold feeling the Dementors caused (he felt the fear of never truly being happy again every day), but because he knew that that dreary place is where he truly belonged. He had caused so many pain and even death. Only Dumbledore's trust that he could still do good, kept him free on kept him trying to do the right thing.

So normally he ended with the promise he had made Dumbledore, to fight for him and for the Order, to remind him that what he was doing was right. That night, he lingered on the promise he had once made to a gravestone. It was not a happy memory, he had just been released for Azkaban and had asked the Headmaster for one free day before he would return to Hogwarts to teach. The old man had granted him, assuming he would visit Lily's grave and put his affairs at Spinner's end into order.

That he did, but then he had Appearated to Ireland, to find Rose's grave. Unlike the statue they were erecting for Lily and James (which both would have found appalling, Severus suspected), Rose's headstone was sober. He had spent the rest of his free afternoon there, sitting on the ground, explaining everything that he couldn't while she was still alive. She had been a Muggle, and happily ignorant of the war that had been going on. She had even died, not knowing that the father of her child was a Wizard. He begged for her forgiveness and promised her, even Vowed that he would do anything in his power to be the good man she thought he was.

And that meant following Dumbledore. Trusting that the old man knows what he is doing, even though his actions sometimes defy logic. And accepting that the man played favourites, in the school and in the Order, even though it was sometimes infuriating to see his students try their best only for the Gryffindors to slide by and win the House cup. Life wasn't fair, he had accepted that a long time ago. But he would try his best to make life a little better for this generation. And hopefully his daughter, wherever she was, would never know war.


	8. Chapter 8 : Discoveries in the infirmary

**Chapter 8 : Discoveries in the infirmary**

Poppy was humming a song under her breath. She thought it was the Weird Sisters' newest hit, but it could be older. She didn't really keep up with these new modern bands, even though she turned on the wireless often, to make her infirmary more inviting for the students. The Weird Sisters were a bit of an exception, since they had been to Hogwarts a few years back at the Yule ball. She hadn't seen their entire performance, because they had encouraged the crowd to dance wildly. The combination of young hormones, smuggled alcohol and magic had kept her busy the entire night, so the band had sent her a gift basket in apology. Such lovely boys.

The beds were empty for a welcome change. She had worked in Hogwarts for more than 20 years and still got surprised by the amount of work mere teenagers could produce. But now it was the last week before examinations: the Quidditch season was finished and the teachers were doing revision in their classes instead of letting them practice new spells. (Also, the Weasley twins had left the school. She wished them all the luck in the world, but had toasted secretly to the end of boil curses and vomiting spells). Everyone in the whole school was now quiet, studying or preparing for tests. Even the few student-aids, 6th and 7th years who were interested in a healing career, were now panicking in their rooms, cramming for Potions and Charms.

Off course accidents still happened. Practicing spells while nervous was a risky business. Only now students wanted to get patched up as quickly as possible to return to their rooms and their books. Calming draughts were also high in demand, as her empty storage room attested. It was the only reason she still was in the infirmary, instead of her more comfortable office or even her rooms. Fifteen minutes after curfew she didn't expected any students to wander in and if there was an emergency, she could easily be called back in.

Only, she was waiting for Severus to arrive with the newest batch of calming draughts. He would put them safely away, even if she wasn't there, that she didn't doubt. But she wanted to thank him in person, because this year it had seemed to be worse than ever and she had relied on him more than usual. She was planning on inviting him to tea, talking with him a bit, or at least browbeat him into quick medical scan. She was worried about him. He seemed so tired lately and was not eating well.

She heard a noise in the hallway, turned on her heels and greeted what she thought was Severus warmly: "Hello Severus."

It was not the Potions master, but his ward. "Miss Granger, what are you doing here?" She asked in honest surprise. It was not like the Gryffindor prefect to be out after curfew.

The girl had some trouble focusing. "Madame Pomfrey? I don't feel too good."

Worried Poppy rushed over, fearing Miss Granger would faint. She brought her over to the nearest bed and made sure she was seated properly before she let her go.

"What happened?"

Her face scrunched up in a parody of thinking; if Poppy wasn't so worried she would probably laugh.

"There was a flying table involved."

"Was there a fight? Do you want me to call your Head?" If there had been a fight, there would be more victims. And why didn't anyone accompany her?

"No fight. Practice. But I told them to stop." That sounded more like her. But why her confusion? A simple concussion? A Confundus charm? Or perhaps some other spell that had hit her in the melee. Students practicing magic on their own… they would be the death of her.

"Ron is cleaning up the mess. No one else got hurt." Miss Granger tried to move and flinched.

"Except you, you mean." She used her wand on the girl for a quick check-up.

"Nothing too bad. A couple of bruises around your torso and a nasty bump on the back of your head. The table must have hit you and pushed you to a wall. But you're not bleeding, so that good."

"My head hurts." The girl concurred, wisely choosing not to nod her head.

"Luckily you don't have a concussion, but the headache and the grogginess will last the night."

She got up from the bed. "I'm going to get you a mild headache potion and some bruising salve. You can start to undress." She told her as she drew the curtains around the bed. A few moments later, she was back and studied the blue and purple bruises. "Not too bad. With this." She wiggled the jar, "most of those will be gone tomorrow."

"Drink this." She waited until the girl had drunk the headache potion, before she started applying the salve.

"Do I have to stay here tonight?" It came out sounding more like a plea than a question. Poppy resisted the urge to smile. It was only natural that Miss Granger, who had already suffered a few long infirmary visits (one even while petrified), not to like this place. Still, she wasn't sure if the girl was just confused, or had been Confounded. She wouldn't put it past one of the older students to spell her so she wouldn't remember who charmed the table. She quickly made up her mind.

"On one condition. Professor Snape will be here any moment now with a batch of Calming Draught. I will only let you go if your mind is completely clear." It was a good compromise.

"Alright."

Poppy smiled at her. Always good to see the students agreeing with her on their health. Suddenly she noticed that Miss Granger wore a pendant. That hadn't been there before.

Just as she wanted to remark on it, something else struck her as odd. She had the distinct feeling she had seen it before…

"Madame Pomfrey, are you there?" Severus' voice broke her thought. Right, the draughts.

"I'll be right out, Severus!" She cried out. Mysterious necklace or not, she had set out to talk to Severus tonight and talk they would.

Meanwhile Miss Granger had started throwing her clothes back on. Poppy rolled her eyes. Did the girl really expect Severus to peek through the curtains, when his voice clearly came from several feet away? That reminded her…

"Severus, could you take out a potion? I have a student here in need of a quiet night."

Seeing that the girl was now fully dressed, she opened the curtains. Just in time to see Severus bended over the crate he had placed on another bed. He snorted: "First, fifth or seventh year?" He asked scathingly as he uncorked a bottle and swirled the liquid in the bottle.

He turned around slowly, obviously trying to scare the student further. Poppy thought it rather telling that he didn't check in advance which student he was dealing with before he turned on the intimidation act. He would never talk to one of his own students in that manner (Severus' frosty behavior might fool many, including most of the staff, but she had seen him at the bedside of his sick and wounded students). It just confirmed a longstanding suspicion she had about him and the installation of an illegal medicine cabinet in the Slytherin common room. It had been many years since one of his students had wandered into her domain for the treatment of minor inconveniences, like wand burns, owl scratches and distressed nerves. Self-reliance was one of Severus' additions to the Slytherin values.

"Miss Granger." It was sneaky of Poppy not to have mentioned her name before, but she wanted to see for herself how he was with his ward. "What a sur…prise." And he did sound surprised, even slightly shocked.

Then she noticed that Severus was not staring at his ward insomuch, but at the pendant around her neck, that she in her haste had not tucked back under her clothes. And suddenly all the pieces fell together for her as well. She looked from Severus to the pendant and back. She had seen it before! But how did the Granger girl end up with it?

Miss Granger was getting distressed at the sudden attention laved upon her. So Poppy did the sensible thing and snapped out of her reverie. She plucked the bottle out of Severus hands, who started to compose himself as well.

"Drink this." She ordered and the girl obeyed. "You can go now, but if the bruises aren't gone the day after tomorrow, or if the headaches become worse, I want you right back here."

"Yes, Madam Pomfrey." She dutifully answered, before she practically ran off.

They both watched her leave in complete silence. When she was gone, Severus spun around, grabbed a bottle of calming draught and downed it with one gulp. That answered another question that had plagued Poppy over the past years. Severus was indeed capable of downing a potion without her nagging him to do it. She suppressed a nervous giggle, fearing that if she started, she would not be able to stop.

He must have noticed her nervousness, because he suddenly stated, rather than asked: "You recognized it as well?"

She nodded. The engraved swan was quite unique. "It's the same as you used to wear." She hesitated. "So, she's related to you?" A Snape, or rather a Prince, like his mother. She's his niece? Cousin? Why else would she wear the same symbol?

"My daughter."

He had spoken so quietly, Poppy could swear she had misheard him. But she could not misinterpret the sad look that shone through his eyes. Severus had a daughter? Severus, who had not even looked at a woman or at a man since he had started teaching here, some fifteen years ago. Off course, Hermione Granger was fifteen now.

Suddenly she looked at the man before her with different eyes. She had always assumed his bitterness and lack of pleasure in life had been the result of his difficult teen years and the part he had played in the war. Now it seemed he had much more hidden away. He hadn't known that Granger was his daughter; it had taken him by surprise. What else, or rather, who else had he lost?

As if he could sense the compassion she now felt for him, Severus murmured a hasty: "I have to go." And all but ran from the infirmary.

Her compassion was replaced with anger. That infuriating man! Running of after dropping a bombshell? It had been quite the bombshell for him as well. And now he was alone in his chambers, almost certainly not dealing with it. The Calming Draught may have even lulled him in to false sense of security. The emotional backlash would enormous to deal with... He should not be alone right now.

She bit her lower lip in hesitation. If only Dumbledore were here, then she could ask him to check up on Severus. She had tried many times, but had never really succeeded to break through Severus' walls. After all the years she had known him, she had gotten him to be honest about his injuries and to ask for help when needed. If she pushed him now, their understanding could be broken. As his Healer she was reluctant to go after him, but as a concerned woman her heart bled for him and she knew she had no choice.

She quickly cleared out the infirmary and carried the batch of potions to her cabinet. Distressed friend or not, she always kept her medicine behind a locked door. For a moment she wondered if she should tell anyone where she was going, so they knew how to call on her in case of an emergency. She reconsidered, Morphy, the House-Elf assigned to the infirmary would find her anywhere within Hogwarts if needed.

As she walked towards Severus' quarters (she suspected that her knowledge of the location was a privilege she shared with few) she reviewed what she already knew. Severus had a daughter, no one knew about. He only discovered today that his daughter was Hermione Granger. Had he given her up at one point? Or had someone taken her from him? And what did it mean for him to find her again?

Many people would be pleased to have Hermione Granger as a daughter, Poppy thought. She was smart girl, not afraid to speak her mind. Her long curly hair, when managed properly, made her modestly attractive to men. She did not in the least look like a Snape or a Prince, but one could never tell with magical genes... She was also a Gryffindor, which could be a tad awkward for the Head of Slytherin. And she was one of Harry Potter's best friends...

The fit of giggles she had suppressed earlier, broke through with vengeance. It wasn't really funny, she knew, rather tragicomically. Poor Severus always got dealt bad cards in life. Sobering, both at this realization as at the chilly air down in the dungeons, she made a decision there and then. She would be Severus' friend, and would stand by him, no matter what he wanted to do about the situation.

She had a feeling no one had ever asked him what he wanted to do… He always followed orders, she had patched him up while Albus lurked in the shadows eager for a debriefing enough times to know Severus was a loyal soldier. She might not be an official member of the Order (at her own request), but she heard and saw enough to know more than most.

She knocked on his door and got no response. She did hear someone moving about inside, so she decided to knock again. If he sent her away, she would comply. But she wanted to hear it from him in person.

"C'mon Severus, I know your in there. Open the door." Still no response. Her temper got the better of her and she threatened. "I'll sick a House-Elf on you…"

She could bite her tongue… great Poppy, that would surely convince him you are on his side… But it did get results. She heard a bang and a muffled noise (that could either be a loud sigh or a swear) and then Severus opened the door gracefully.

"Madam Pomfrey. Do come in." He said with a sarcastic wave and left her standing in the door opening. Not even slightly discouraged by his glare (she knew it well), she entered and closed the door herself She went to sit on his black leather couch and watched him drag his old school trunk into the room. He sat down as well, but on a leather chair before the fire.

He cast a glance at her, but then proceeded to open his trunk. Her heart fluttered: he trusted her!

He started rummaging trough the contents, that looked typical for an ex-student: a few old textbooks, a Slytherin tie, photographs and other items all thrown haphazardly together. Finally he found what he was looking for. Closing the top lid, he placed two items on the chest. The first was a small wooden box, with a now familiar swan engraved on top and the second was a book. She could not read the title upside down, but it did not look like an expensive book. The pages had already turned yellow from age.

"I hadn't opened that trunk in ages." He commented. Then, as if he was startled by his own voice, he produced his wand, pointed at the door and cast several locking and silencing spells. With a glance at the fire, he repeated the action. Poppy was shocked. Yes, the new Headmistress had told them that the Floo-network was monitored, but did he really think someone would listen in through the fire? Was he truly that paranoid?

He opened the book, turning the pages reverently, but he wasn't reading, he was looking for something. After he pulled out two small strips of paper, he gently laid the book away. She could now see the title: _101 games of logic_. Severus himself was staring at what she now recognized as photographs.

She had never seen anything like it. The pictures didn't move, so clearly they were Muggle. But instead of one large rectangular picture, Severus was holding a combinations of 4 tiny ones.

He handed her the first strip. "That is Rose."

He gave no further information and she didn't expect him to be more fore coming. It wasn't necessary though. Hermione Granger had inherited her mother's hair. Only Rose's was much shorter. And she was very much in love with a twenty-something Severus.

She had to hand it to the Muggles, they may not be able to produce moving photographs, but this sequence of four told an entire story. In the first picture, Severus had a sullen face. He probably had been talked into this by the girl who was beaming next to him. In the next frame she gave him a small kiss on the cheek, which obviously surprised him. By the last picture they were both gazing adoringly at each other. It was very endearing, but Poppy was smart enough not to tell him that.

He was still staring at the other picture strip. Very quietly, she tried to get his attention. "And that is your daughter?"

He gave her the picture. "Miss Granger, apparently." He tried to say it casually, but it was clear he was still struggling with the idea of finding his daughter again.

She recognized a slightly older Severus, who was holding a tiny baby wrapped up in pale pink blanket. The pink clashed with his black sweater (she only now noticed he had been dressed in Muggle clothes in both pictures). This time he didn't pose happily. He was pale and looked like he had lost several pounds since the previous picture. Instead of focusing on whoever took the photo, he stared at his child, as if he wanted to imprint her on his corneas.

She understood why. "You gave her up after this was taken, didn't you?"

He nodded slowly. "It wasn't safe to keep her."

_He-who-must-not-be-named._ Yet another reason the curse that man's existence.

"Rose was a Muggle." It wasn't a guess. If he had given a Pureblood a child, that child would now be in the Slytherin Common room, rubbing shoulders with Pansy Parkinson and Draco Malfoy.

"She died in childbirth. Her father did not want anything to do with his grandchild. And I could not…"

He bit back a sob. Was he crying? Severus never cried, not even whilst under excruciating pain. Only when she had told him her mother had died, had he shed a few silent tears. Feeling slightly overwhelmed herself, she shifted closer to him and laid a hand on his knee, in an attempt to comfort him. She did not dare to offer more, out of fear she would be rebutted.

"You made the right choice. She had a very happy childhood." She remembered with a small smile how a younger Miss Granger had sat in her infirmary when her teeth had been hexed. She had told her everything about her parents and how they fixed teeth for a living. "She had good parents."

"Has." Was Severus' dry reply. "The Order relocated them, because they were afraid for their safety. Because she is …"

_Harry Potter's friend. A gifted Muggleborn and thus a thorn in most Purebloods' eyes. Not afraid to speak her mind. A fighter for the rights of non-wizards. Already involved with t__he Order._ The list of reasons why it wasn't safe to be Hermione Granger was ever growing.

"But she's supposed to be a Muggle..." Severus trailed of and in a sudden flash of movement opened the wooden box and took out a fob watch. "I used to check this every day and she never showed up." Poppy didn't understand. "After her 11th birthday I assumed she was either a Muggle of a Squib. And I was happy because she was safe." He sighed in realisation. "It was the pendant. She has to wear it for it to work…"

With a resigned sigh, he clicked the watch open. But it wasn't a normal watch. There was only one hand, with a tiny picture (Miss Granger, she assumed) attached to it. It pointed at: _In bed_. Now it made sense, Poppy thought. Those kinds of family-clocks were very rare, but not unheard of. But how had Eileen Prince gotten her hands on one of those? Her family had never been rich enough to acquire one and she herself had snapped her wand when she married Tobias Snape. Her musings were interrupted by Severus, who let out a growl, like a cornered animal.

"Why?" He shrugged off her hand. "Why isn't she a Muggle? Why isn't she safe?" He shook his head, got up and started pacing. He paced for a long time, worrying Poppy. Finally he made a decision, came back to her and sunk down on his knees in front of her.

"Poppy, you can't tell a soul. Promise me you won't tell anyone." She nodded solemnly; he knew her word was good.

"Not even Miss Granger herself." She wanted to protest, but he put a long finger on her lips. "She mustn't know. It's not safe for her to know. She has good parents, she doesn't need me."

As she remembered the promise she had made herself before, she let the protests on the tip of her tongue die out. Relieved Severus removed his finger. She did have to ask him:

"Are you sure it's for the best?"

He flashed her a humorless smile: "As many enemies she has, I have more. The last thing I want is people to hurt her to get back at me."

He rose from the floor. "I will protect her." He assured her. "I have been watching Potter the last five years. I can watch her too. But she'll be the safest not knowing who I am. I'm just the bastard Potions Professor…"

It almost hurt her physically to hear him put himself down like that. But it was his choice and if anyone told the girl the truth, it should be him.

"Do you need anything?" Poppy asked him. "Tea, a glass of fire whiskey?" _A hug?_

"I'm fine." He said. She gave him the same look she always gave him when he said that. The I'm-not-buying-it-Mister-look she had perfected over the years. He acknowledged her with small nod. "I will be fine." He corrected. "Thank you, Poppy. But there is nothing you can do for me."

It was his polite way of making her leave. But he never called her Poppy, without her prompting him beforehand. It meant a lot for her, that he trusted her now, in a time he needed a friend.

"All right. But if you ever need anything…" _Or anyone_, "You know where to find me."

She actually got a small smile in response. Getting up, she smiled back. She would leave him in peace, although she doubted he would sleep for a single minute that night.

* * *

Two weeks later she understood why Albus had asked Severus to spy on You-know-who again. Either he was a brilliant actor, or the man simply had no feeling (she knew better). He had not changed his demeanor one bit: he ate at the high table glaring at the children, was his sarcastic self during meetings and from what she heard from other teachers, still took away points from Gryffindor as if it was nothing. Even towards her, he acted the same as ever, having slipped back into the habit of addressing her as Madam Pomfrey or using her title of Matron.

It was enough to make one doubt that anything had happened, she pondered that Monday morning at breakfast. Pretending to read the Prophet, she instead was studying Severus. He was staring at the Gryffindor table, which wasn't strange in itself. He often kept his eye on Harry Potter, claiming to make sure he wasn't planning mischief. It was a constant source of quibbling between him and Minerva.

Only this time he kept his eyes on the table for a very long time. Usually he was more subtle and stole several glances during dinner. She looked over there herself. Potter and Weasley were ignoring their food, instead rereading their textbooks like their life depended on it. Divination she guessed, as Longbottom (one of her repeat customers) dropped his crystal ball in his oatmeal. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, only Granger wasn't at the table yet.

Was he getting nervous because his ward was running late? The poor girl was probably still struggling with her hair care. Her curls had been getting more and more out of control the last few days... She suddenly realized that she hadn't only kept her eye on Severus. Rolling her eyes at herself, she almost missed Severus' next move.

He produced the fob watch from his breast pocket and quickly checked it. Whatever it said, satisfied him, because moments later he was sipping his coffee and buttering another piece of toast. And indeed, not even a minute later, Miss Granger came walking in, deep in conversation with Luna Lovegood, a student she had not yet had to pleasure to meet in her infirmary. Knowing who her parents were, she probably would not see her too soon. Self-help witches and wizards…

She said her goodbyes to her colleagues and stood. Just as she left, she grabbed a grapefruit on impulse, to snack on later. She needed her strengths today. The 7th years NEWT students had their Defense against the Dark Arts practical examination that morning. There were bound to be wounded. Examinations are always busy times for her.

* * *

Yes, I'm playing the "magical genes"-card. Harry is the look-alike of James. All Weasleys exactly the same. Hermione can look like her mother :p

Next: The fight at the Department of Mysteries…


	9. Chapter 9 : Battles

**Author's note: **I actually prefer the movie's version of the battle in the Department of Mysteries. In the book, they wander around way to long, then they stand up to a pack of Death Eaters, older and more experienced by far, and still then they manage to defeat some of them? DA-training or not: ridiculous…And then Dumbledore shows up pretty fast for someone who has to: first arrive at Grimmauld Place, then question Kreacher and then transport himself to the Ministry.

In the movie they just run for their lives and are quickly overtaken by the Death Eaters. Much more plausible. But then everyone starts flying (apparating?) around, which seems very unlikely. I don't think non-Ministry workers can just pop up everywhere in the building, which means that they to have to use the visitors entrance…which also takes time.

My version will follow the book (because it has several useful elements: mortal peril, separating the group, breaking the time turners (I don't like time travel), etc. But Dumbledore will arrive later... and perhaps some other changes…. (I won't spoil you in advance).

(Chronology is a pain in the ass :p)

_Dialogue in the first part has been taken from the __book : HP and the Order of the Phoenix._

_

* * *

_

**Chapter 9 : Battles**

Severus was quietly marking the first-years potions in his classroom. So far there had been no failures, which both surprised him and made him slightly optimistic for the years to come. Their spelling might be atrocious, but he would gladly exchange cleaning up sticky goo and exploded cauldrons for poorly written essays.

He considered calling a House-elf to bring him a cup of coffee, when he heard a short knock on the door. Draco entered. "Professor Snape, Umbridge wants you."

"Headmistress Umbridge." He admonished automatically. Draco's grin told him that his chastisement had no effect. Frankly, he couldn't bother to care. "And what does she want now?" Ever since the blasted woman had become Headmistress, he basically had become her confidante and second in command, although officially McGonagall still was Deputy.

"She caught Potter in her office, trying to reach Dumbledore. We brought in the rest of their gang for questioning." Draco was practically glowing with pride. But it did not make sense; Potter had no idea how to reach the Headmaster. Even he did not know where exactly he had hidden. There must be more to it. He schooled a smirk on his face and turned to Draco:

"Well then, we mustn't let them waiting." He let the essays and potion samples lie on his desk, but he locked the door with a spell only he knew the counter to.

To his surprise, Draco politely held the door open for him to enter, when they arrived at her office. He must really be excited, he thought. The same applied to his other students, but not to those held captive. The Gryffindors glared at him (Miss Lovegood just smiled). If only looks could kill… He assessed the situation, trying not to linger on Herm... Miss Granger's situation. The five were well restrained (_five points to Slytherin_), but in no apparent danger. Although Mister Longbottom seemed to have problems breathing…

"You wanted to see me, Headmistress?" He truly hoped he was not here so she could gloat, but that he would be allowed to take them away for detention or suspension.

"Ah, Professor Snape," said Umbridge with a vicious grin and stood up, no doubt to come closer to him. "Yes, I would like another bottle of Veritaserum, as quick as you can, please."

Another? "You took my last bottle to interrogate Potter." Actually the last bottle had been used on Barty Crouch. He had quickly brewed an inept surrogate when asked. "Surely you did not use it all? I told you that three drops would be sufficient." With some satisfaction he saw her face flush.

"You can make some more, can't you?" She asked in that sickening sweet voice of hers.

"Certainly. It takes a full moon-cycle to mature, so I should have it ready for you in a month."

She did not take the news well, screeching and squawking her displeasure. She wanted to know who Potter wanted to contact in the fireplace. For once they agreed on something, he too very much wanted to know what the brat had been thinking.

When he stared at the boy, he noticed that the boy was not glaring at him. Instead he was meeting his gaze unflinchingly, like he was trying to get a message across. _Sure Potter, now you are interested in Legilemency?_ As if he would be able to break into his thoughts from across the room, wand –and wordless. Still he tried.

Umbridge broke his concentration with what perhaps could best be labelled as a tantrum. "… a potion to force that will force him to tell me the truth!"

Stupid woman. "I have already told you, that I have no further stocks of Veritaserum. Unless you want to poison Potter – and I assure you I would have the greatest sympathy with you if you did – I cannot help you. The only trouble is that most venoms act too fast to give the victim much time for truth telling."

He stared at Potter again. Perhaps he had been a little harsh with his words, but truly: did the boy have to be a Gryffindor at every turn: leaping into trouble and taking his friends with him? How was he supposed to solve this mess?

"You're on probation!" She shrieked. _As if he cared._ "I expected better, Lucius Malfoy always speaks most highly of you!" He deliberately did not look at Draco, expecting he was now biting his tongue not to laugh. They both knew exactly what Lucius thought of Umbridge and how he spoke of her during his dinner parties.

"Now get out of my office!" Finally, an order he would gladly obey. He bowed slightly at her and turned to leave, plotting to stay in the vicinity so he could try and get them out of their predicament.

"He's got Padfoot." Potter suddenly shouted out. "He's got Padfoot at the place where it is hidden!"

He froze. Black? The Dark Lord? The Ministry? Was Potter still connected to the Dark Lord? Damn! Off course the boy could not Occlude, off course Black would go out of the house and get caught.

Umbridge meanwhile pitched a fit. "… What is Padfoot? Where is what hidden? What does he mean, Snape?"

Before he turned around, he composed himself again. He could not give anything away. "I have no idea." He answered her. "Potter, when I want nonsense shouted at me, I shall give you a Babbling Beverage." From the corner of his eye, he saw Longbottom turning slightly blue: "Crabbe, loosen your hold a little. If Longbottom suffocates it will mean a lot of tedious paperwork and I am afraid I shall have to mention it on your reference if ever you apply for a job." Crabbe obeyed and his other students also lessened their hold a bit. Good, he thought, and left. He cringed when he heard that he had slammed the door harder than necessary. Calmly he walked out of the hallway and into the next, before he started in a small jog. Most of the students were in the Great Hal for dinner right now, so he would not be spotted.

Potter had seen something through his connection: he had seen Black. So, first order of business: checking if Black had left headquarters. He quickly headed to the Headmaster's office. The Gargoyle at the door glared at him, but he simply glared back and stated: "This is an Order emergency. Let. Me. In." Only he and McGonagall had been able to enter since Dumbledore had left, obviously they had not shared this information with the other teachers.

"Headmaster Black," he addressed the portrait. "Would you please check if your descendant is at Grimmauld?" Experience had taught him to always be polite to all portraits. Also, even if the Slytherin Headmaster did not agree with the actions and sympathies of his great-grandson, he still did not allow others to speak bad about his bloodline.

The man nodded and disappeared from his frame. For several minutes Severus stared at an empty painting.

"Sirius is upstairs with that flying monster." Severus smirked at the description of the Hippogriff. He supposed he wouldn't let a large winged creature in his family house either. "Did he leave today or is he planning to leave?" The headmaster shook his head.

That meant that the Dark Lord had finally caught on to the connection between him and the brat. And was now using for his own nefarious reasons. Bad news. "Good. Are there others in the house?"

"Aurors Shacklebolt, Tonks and Moody. And the werewolf. Do you want to send them a message?"

He sighed; the Order members present were not his biggest fans. Moody still wanted him in Azkaban, Lupin and Black would disagree with him out of habit and Tonks held a grudge from her student days (how that clumsy girl had ever survived her Potion NEWTs, was still a mystery to him).

"Tell Shacklebolt to keep an eye out." He eventually said. Between him and the Auror lay no personal issues. Shacklebolt respected what Severus did for the Order and listened to what he had to say at meetings. Severus respected him in turn and suspected he would soon rise in the ranks. If they all survived this bloody war…

But first things first. If the Dark Lord now used the connection to feed Potter false information, this could only mean one thing: a trap! And Potter would walk into it willingly… Thank heavens Umbridge had caught him before he had done anything stupid. He would have to retrieve Potter, no matter what and restart his Occlumency lessons immediately.

His wand hand twitched. There was no doubt in his mind that he could hex the Umbridge woman into tomorrow, but what of his students? If he barged in there, wand drawn, and _saved_ Potter, what would they think? How could he explain his actions in such a light that his position as a spy would not be compromised? Draco, Vincent and Gregory would no doubt inform their parents of his strange behaviour and they in turn would brief his betrayal to the Dark Lord.

Excuses flickered in and out of his mind, while he made his way back to Umbridge office. _Perhaps he could ask Shacklebolt to Obliviate the lot?_ When he finally stepped inside the office and oversaw the carnage, he realised he must of just missed Potter's gang. He cursed.

Three of his students lay unconscious on the floor, probably stunned. Goyle was struggling against invisible bindings, while Crabbe, who was bleeding furiously from his broken nose, was trying to remember the counter spell. Malfoy was flapping his hands around fighting … were those bogeys with wings? In spite of himself he was impressed by the hex. A simple "_Fine Incantate_" did not help. He did manage to _Ennervate_ and free the rest of his students.

"Morphy!" He called out. The House-Elf appeared immediately. "Go to the Infirmary and get Madam Pomfrey." With a look to Malfoy, he added: "And Professor Flitwick." He would sort out the hex himself, but he had other worries right now.

"What happened?" He demanded to know. His students cowered; no doubt afraid a chastising of huge proportions would come. "And where is Umbridge?" Only now did he notice he was the only adult in the room.

"Granger told them about Dumbledore's secret weapon. Umbridge took her and Potter at wand point to find it."

"Idiots!" He bellowed. "Do you really think Dumbledore is going to let a gaggle of fifteen year olds build a weapon? It was a plot to lure her away. And you all fell for it!" They started to flush in embarrassment. Good, they should. Falling for such a simple ploy and then loosing a fight six to four, including two fourth years and _Longbottom_! Still, he admired Granger's quick thinking: she had played right into Umbridge's delusions. Not that now was the time to ponder about his daug... his ward and how she had learnt to tell a lie without stumbling, like she had done in her First Year about the Troll incident.

Poppy hurried in. "Oh dear!" She fussed and immediately started working on Crabbe's nose.

"Where did she take them?" he asked. To his frustration, they all just shrugged. He needed a starting point; otherwise searching the grounds for Potter would take forever. Unless… oh no... she didn't lead them…

"I heard Weasley say something about the Forest when they ran for it." Parkinson shared.

He growled loudly. Every pair of eyes looked at him in worry. He normally never reacted outspoken like this, but was getting very frustrating. "Of course, they all wandered straight into danger." The girl probably hoped that some creature would eat Umbridge, instead of thinking of her own safety. There was a reason the Forest was forbidden! It simply was not safe, not for anyone or anything.

He straightened up and grabbed his wand a little firmer. Time was of the essence.

"Oh no, you're not going in there alone." Poppy suddenly tried to stop him.

He glared at her. "And who do you propose I take? I haven't seen Hagrid or McGonagall lately. Dumbledore isn't here. And I don't think we can count on our Defence teacher, because she's the one that got us all into this mess."

The Healer puffed up, readying herself for a retort, but failed to find the words. "Poppy, the longer I wait …" the more danger she is in. And Potter, off course. Poppy's eyes went from his own to his breast pocket, where he kept his family fob watch, and back. She understood and stepped back.

"All right. You have one hour before I call in the cavalry."

He sprinted out the door and into the forest. Near Hagrid's hut stood a lost pack of thestrals. Strange, he noted. Normally they stayed in the Forest. Something must have driven them out. This realisation made him run even faster.

* * *

It was hopeless. He had wandered in the forest a little more than a half hour ago and had yet to find a decent set of tracks that could lead them to the children. He had not even met a creature of intelligence he could ask to help. Hagrid and Firenze had warned the staff that the Centaurs were no longer friendly, so he had no particular desire to trespass into their territory without backup.

Perhaps he should get reinforcements. Surely Black would jump at the opportunity to help fin…

He could kick himself!

Off course the six students had overpowered the incompetent teacher by now and had hidden her away somewhere. Seeing as Potter was still under the delusion that Black had been captured, they were probably on their way to London. He reached for his watch, just in time to see the hand change from 'flying' to 'Ministry of Magic". Right into the trap the Dark Lord had set.

Not a second to spare, he ran to the Apparition point. A second later he was banging on the door of Grimmauld Place. The bloody House-Elf didn't open, so he sent his Patronus to Shacklebolt in order for him to open the door.

When the door finally opened, everyone present had also gathered in the hallway. He didn't waste any time greeting them. "The Dark Lord tricked Potter into thinking that he captured Black. He probably is in the Ministry as we speak."

Tonks, Moody and Shacklebolt showed their training, by grabbing for their wands and preparing for immediate action. Lupin looked dumbfounded and Black, unsurprisingly, blamed him for the entire situation.

"What do you mean, tricked him? Weren't you supposed to help Harry close his mind to that bastard!" He all but yelled, stepping closer to Severus. Lupin woke up from his trance and pulled him back.

"Do you want to fight or help?" He hissed.

Moody took control of the situation. "Kinsley, send word to Dumbledore to come to HQ at once. Lupin, prepare the floo. Tonks: do you have your Auror documentation with you." Tonks nodded and Severus was relieved. With Shacklebolt's and Tonk's clearance, they would be able to Floo right into the Ministry, even after hours.

"Let's go." The group moved towards to fire place. Tonks Flood with Moody. Shacklebolt stepped inside the fireplace, waiting for Lupin, but Black also joined them.

"You stay here, Sirius." The Auror said. Black didn't move. "Don't be a fool. You're a wanted criminal."

"I'm also his Godfather." Severus rolled his eyes, but knew better than to speak. He did not want to pour oil on the fire that would keep the rescue party from leaving.

Lupin tried to reason with his friend: "Someone needs to stay here and explain things to Dumbledore."

Black sneered at Severus. "He can tell them."

"He needs to go back to Hogwarts before anyone misses him." Shacklebolt told Black, but Severus understood the underlying order. If the Order was going to take on Death Eaters, he needed to be around witnesses. He turned on his heels and left the other men to fight it out.

**

* * *

**

Back in Hogwarts he hurried to the infirmary. His students looked healthy enough, huddled together on two beds and whispering excitedly. Did Draco know more then he led on and was he informing the rest, or were they just planning their revenge?

He wanted to find out, but the moment he entered he was called by Poppy. She was accompanied by Sprout, Flitwick and Vector, who temporarily stood in for McGonagall. _This was the cavalry?_ The Heads of Houses?

"You didn't find them?" Sprout asked worriedly.

"No." He stated. "But I have already contacted several Aurors." Two was several, wasn't it?

Sprout and Vector sighed in relief, but Flitwick looked at him with suspicion. The half-goblin had always been good in spotting lies. Or in this case, half-truths.

"It is out of our hands, now. The Aurors will find them and bring them home." Then they can lead them to Umbridge, he can find a reason to yell at them and take massive amounts of points away and all will be normal again.

"How are my students doing? Do they need to stay the night?" It was meant as a brush-off and luckily the other Heads of House were quick on the uptake and started filing out. Let them worry on their own time.

"They can go now. I just wanted to wait for your return before letting them go."

"Holding hostages now, are you?" he asked with a raised eyebrow. Poppy had a distinct talent for making him feel better. But he still was worried and decided he would take care of his own students tomorrow. He walked over to the lot of them.

"You can return to our common room now. Talk to no one. Expect extra DADA homework this summer." _Honestly, getting beat six to four_. _He taught them better than that._ They wisely did not argue and left without a comment.

When it was just the two of them in the room, Severus sat on the nearest bed. Why was this suddenly so hard for him? As a spy, he did nothing but sit on the sideline. Watch and pretend to enjoy everything the Death Eaters did. Watch and pretend not to notice the blatant disregard most teachers had for his House, as if every 11 year old that stepped into the dungeons was a miniature Death Eater. Before his eyes he had seen people ridiculed, beaten, tortured and killed. He had never flinched once (not since he had joined Dumbledore and fought for the greater good).

Right now, he not only had the distinct feeling he wanted to flinch, he also wanted to yell and kick at something. Poppy noticed his mood and very carefully came closer.

"I'm sure they're fine. It hasn't been that long, hasn't it?"

He reached for his watch, before he remembered he now carried his normal watch in another pocket. It was the first time he had made that mistake, since he had made the switch. It just showed how out of control he now was. He wanted to put it away when he noticed something odd. The watch had become ice-cold in his hands. He quickly clicked it open. The hand that had said 'Ministry of Magic' earlier was now pointing straight down at: '_in mortal peril'_.

He felt all warmth leave his body and he was sure that his face had become pale as well. He heard Poppy gasp when she saw too saw the message in the watch.

He got up and ran out of the infirmary, no longer thinking of witnesses and consequences. If he used Dumbledore's fireplace, he would be able to floo directly to the Ministry. The old man was no longer part of the Wizgamot, but surely the Ministry hadn't gotten around to blocking his entrance…

Poppy hurried after him and yelled for him to stop. "You have to trust that they'll bring them back."

He turned around and said: "I trust them to bring Potter back." Because protecting Potter was what the Order was all about, he thought with a twinge of irritation. The boy and his safety were his concern as well, ever since he had made aligned himself to Dumbledore. So he knew exactly what was at stake: protection at all cost could very well mean sacrifice.

Saving Granger would rank low on the list of the rescue teams priority list. After all, Hermione Granger was only a Muggleborn witch, who asked many questions. She had chosen to follow Potter into his foolish suicide mission, knowing the risks they would have to take. She would probably even gladly sacrifice herself for her friends, because she believed in those kinds of ideals. She was a stupid little girl that had no business on a battlefield and would probably get herself killed.

She was also his flesh and blood. He could not let her die.

* * *

He was unceremoniously spit out of the fireplace in a very large hall. He was unsure he was in the right place, until he saw the large golden statue of several figures placed around a fountain. Dumbledore and Lucius had told him about that monstrosity. He himself had only been in the Ministry a few times, always accompanied by Dementors, as a prisoner of Azkaban. Out of principle, he had never come back again.

Where would they be, he asked himself. Dumbledore had not told him much about where the prophesy was kept, so he could claim ignorance when the Dark Lord asked him. Ignorance at this moment was a serious problem. He rushed over the elevator and checked for a sign with the layout of the building. _The Department of Mystery_. Yes! Down he went.

As soon as the loud elevator ejected him, he heard the telltale cries and noises from a duel. Grabbing his wand a little tighter he stormed into the room where the sounds originated from. He almost fell down the steps from his forceful entrance.

From his view above he had a good overview of the room. It seemed like the Order was winning (_but_ _where were the other students?_), but in all the excitement they had forgotten Bellatrix, the most vicious of all Death Eaters. She stood right under him, pointed her wand at Potter and Black, who off course were fighting side by side, and yelled out: _"Avada …"_

He had only a split second to decide. Shouting out his own hex would take too long. There was only one thing he could do... "_Kedavra_!" he jumped on top of her, hoping against hope that this would change the trajectory of the curse and it would ricochet harmlessly against the walls.

_No such luck_. Whilst Bellatrix pushed him off in anger, they both snapped their heads into the direction the curse would have landed. Even though there were several feet between both men, Severus could read the betrayal in his old friend's eyes. The cold overcame him again.

"Lucius.." He whispered, while the blonde's body did the most peculiar thing. Instead of just falling over, like all the victims of the Killing Curse, his body floated into the misty archway that stood in the centre of the room.

He could not take his eyes of the Stone arch, giving Bellatrix time to recover sooner then him. She got up and kicked him in the stomach. "You filthy half-blood traitor." She cried out and pointed her wand at him. Even though he knew she was about to cast the _Avada_ again, he could not find it in himself to move.

"_Stupefy_." A young voice cast in his stead. It had been Tonks, who was lying on the floor, with what looked like several broken limbs. Severus scrambled to his feet and added an "_Incarcerous_" to make sure Bellatrix would not exact her revenge later that day. He promptly pushed all emotions out of his mind: there would be time to grieve Lucius later. Right now he had other matters to attend to.

"Dora," Lupin yelled out: "Are you all right? Can you stand?"

"No, but I can still point." The young Auror replied with a grin, flourishing her wand. That would have to do, thought Severus and cleared his voice.

"Tonks, you and Shacklebolt stay here and wait for the Aurors to arrive. The rest of us should try and get the children out of here and into safety before that happens."

Moody gave him an approving nod and pulled Lupin away from Tonks, shoving him towards the door. Potter and Longbottom also obeyed at once. Black refused to move and held out a hand to stop Potter. "Who died and made you our leader?"

Thinking of Lucius, who he had just sacrificed, Severus' blood boiled. Before he could even come up with a scathing remark to throw at him, a very unexpected person came to his aid.

"Because he's right, Sirius. My friends are wounded. We need to get out of here." With a cry of pain, the Pooter rubbed his scar. "He's mad." He looked straight at Severus. His own Mark started throbbing in response. Potter was also right, chances were that He himself was on his way.

"Show us the way." He told Potter and Longbottom. He only now noticed that Longbottom's nose was bleeding furiously and looked broken. He grabbed the boy, pulled him closer and pointed his wand at the broken nose. Longbottom went limp with fear. Honestly, the priorities of this boy, he had just survived a fight with the most dangerous people on this world and still he feared his teacher most. "_Episkey._" he hissed and let him go, leaving the youngster to rub his nose and stare at him in surprise.

Potter led the way through several doors. This place was a maze and the ravage the students had left behind was enormous. But to his surprise the others had managed to stay together. Lovegood had already woken up and was busy _Ennervating_ the youngest Weasley. In the corner of the room, a Death Eater with the face of a baby was banging his fists to the wall, crying his eyes out. Moody, who acted like he saw this thing every day, quickly incapacitated the baby.

Lupin gave both girls a large piece of chocolate and Lovegood stopped Black from trying to wake her brother. "He's been hit with some kind of a maddening spell. You better leave him unconscious. It will be quieter on the way home."

Severus had rushed over to Hermione the second they had found the group, but didn't manage to wake her. "What hit her?" He asked the students.

"We don't know." Harry said quietly. "She silenced him, so we couldn't hear the spell."

"Who?" _Please not Dolohov. _

"Dolohov." Damn! He gently scooped the girl in his arms and yelled at the others. "We need to get her to the infirmary now."

Moody sensed the urgency in his voice. "All right. I'll lead the way. Black, Lupin, you go last. Boys, carry the Redhead. Girls: wands out and shield the wounded if necessary. Everyone else: attack everything that moves." They closed their ranks and soon they found themselves back in the hall.

The girl in his arms did not stir once, but the Mark on his left arm had been burning incessantly. He saw Potter squint his eyes in pain, like his scar was bothering him as well. This could only mean one thing. He was already here.

"Moody." He addressed the older man. "You take Granger and Weasley and go through first. Warn Pomfrey more wounded are on the way." The flames took them away and he was relieved. His daughter was safe. Now the rest of them.

As he suspected, the Dark Lord stepped from the shadows as soon as the strongest opponent had left. Powerful wizard, yes, but not a fool.

"Harry Potter. We meet again." Severus felt everyone around him freeze. Off course Potter felt heroic enough to step forward with his wand drawn. Had the boy truly no sense of self-preservation?

He stepped forward himself, roughly shoving the boy back towards his Godfather and Werefriend. "Get out, all of you."

"Not only Potter will stand up to you. _Master_." The honorific came out as curse.

The Dark Lord was furious and attacked at once. Severus managed to shield himself in time and then volleyed curse after curse against his former master. He knew he had no chance of beating the nearly immortal wizard, but at least he would be able to stall him long enough for the rest to get away. That would be worth his sacrifice. Saving the boy-who-lived and the-daughter-he-had-just-found.

Unfortunately the sound of the Floo being activated again warned the Dark Lord to his plan. "Oh no, you don't, Potter. You stay right here." He hissed and soon Fiendfyre surrounded them in a large circle. Severus quickly checked: only he, Potter, Black and Lupin remained. _This was bad. The Dark Lord would soon overpower him, and the other two men did not stand half the fighting chance that he had… _

"Shield the boy." He yelled at Lupin and fired off his own version of Fiendfyre towards Him. It off course failed to do any harm.

"What's this, concern for the Chosen one, the Golden boy? _Crucio!_" The Dark Lord taunted him.

The pain caused was worse than ever before and he fell to his knees in agony. "Have you gone soft after all these with that old fool? _Crucio_!" Again he twisted in pain. "Or does the boy remind you of someone? Oh, I remember you grovelling before me. _Don't kill the girl, please don't kill_ _Lily_…"

Severus heard a gasp behind him, but it didn't register. All he felt now was hate, directed at the one man, no _creature _now standing before him revelling in his pain. He had cost him everything; He was the cause of the pathetic half-life he had led the past 15 years. Severus channelled this hatred and for the first time in his life he cast the Killing Curse: "Avada Kedav…"

A leisurely cast "_Expelliarmus._" was enough to disarm him midst curse. The anger had not left his system so he charged forward, wanting to tear him apart with his bare hands.

"_Crucio._" He fell down again only to be picked up with one hand around his neck, the other jabbing a wand into his cheek. He was forced to stare into His eyes. "_Legilimens_." Knowing this was to be his last stand; he dropped every barrier of Occlumency and showed Him what he truly felt for his Master. _Disgust._ Desperate he used all his energy to keep Order information away from Him, choosing to only show where and how he had disobeyed His orders.

"Let him go, Tom. It's me you want to fight with." A calm voice broke through their mental fight.

_Dumbledore!_ Relief came over him; his sacrifice was not for nought, Lily's boy, this man's destroyer would be saved! The thought only angered He-who-held-him-tight further. _Happy too see him? _He sneered into his mind. _Dumbledore is a fool if he thinks he can win this war!_

_Dumbledore is ten__ times the man you never were! _He answered back.

"Out in a minute, Albus. Just taking out the trash." His former Master spoke out loud.

Severus knew what was coming next. He let himself go limp, knowing the end would come with two simple words. _Avada Kedavra_. He welcomed death.

_Oh, no_. _You will die in agony. Remember this spell?_ His captor sneered. _SECTUMSEPRA! _

Pain overcame him. Everything went black.


	10. Chapter 10 : The aftermath

Thank you, all of you for the lovely reviews!

Author's note: Again, mixing the book's and the movie's version. And making it completely my own, obviously. The book says something about the prisoners being under a Disapparation jinx, but like I said in the previous notes: a Ministry building where everyone can just pop in and out? In my story, you can only Apparate into and out off the Great Hall where all the Fireplaces are.

Note 2: I changed the warning from T to M due to violence and blood. And probably swear words in the future.

**Chapter 10 : ****the Aftermath**

Remus had never been one of those men who arrogantly refused to admit fear. Fear, like dread, were normal reactions to scary situations and Remus found himself in those kind of situations rather often (_every month or so_). As a logical consequence of being in touch with his feelings, he now exactly knew what he felt. It wasn't fear. No, he wasn't afraid. He was terrified.

It had started as a normal search and rescue mission. Harry had wandered into a dangerous situation, they would get Harry out. If he was entirely truthful, perhaps part of him had been overjoyed at the chance to get out and actually _do_ something. As a very known werewolf he was unemployed for most of the year. Some odd jobs did come up, but mostly he sat at home, doing research (under one of his many aliases) and got bored from staring at the walls. Hexing and cursing the Death Eaters that had surrounded Harry and Neville, did wonders for his frustrations.

But then Sirius almost died and he was snapped back to reality. Severus took control of the situation then and had made sure they all got their heads back into the game. _Not that it was a game, this had been a battle_. The was had really started anew. Finding the hurt students that had been left behind by the Death Eaters, made this very clear. Tonight could have been much worse, he had thought at the moment Severus had lifted the unconscious Hermione gently into his arms.

And then everything went to hell, when He showed up: the devil himself. Remus was not a religious person (God only existed to be shouted at every month), but the comparison was apt. Severus defied his master and started to fight. Fight for their lives. If Remus ever had doubts that Severus was on their side (and honestly, he had wondered. Student Severus had been Dark with a capital D and he had turned traitor only months before the end of the first war…) this sacrifice blew all of them away.

He had bravely stepped up to die so the rest of them could survive. Them, a bunch of Gryffindors, the bane of his existence, his childhood enemies … And he would die for them, because he was on the side of the Light. Hurriedly he and Sirius had pushed the rest of the students to the fireplaces. They were safe, Harry was safe.

Or not… What was the stupid boy still doing here? Why didn't he Floo out with friends? J_ust like James, stubborn until the end. _But Harry's end wouldn't be on his watch. He grabbed the boy on the back of his neck, determined to make him leave. Only to have his path blocked off by a wall of fire. Voldemort. He too had noticed that Harry hadn't left yet.

"Shield the boy!" their unlikely saviour called out. Remus responded immediately and erected a shield large enough for the three of them. Severus was still fighting him, which he would have found impressive if he had the time to reflect on something other than his terror (for himself, for Harry, for Sirius and surprisingly for Severus). Severus let out his own volley of Fiendfyre. _That was what the shield was for!_ It did not even bother Voldemort. Remus decided to leave the shield up. Out of the corner of his eyes he could see Sirius manhandling Harry _to stay behind him, no matter what_.

Severus meanwhile had depleted his force by calling Fiendfyre and fell prey to the favourite torture of his former Master._. _"_Crucio_." Severus yelled out in pain and Remus winced in sympathy. He forced himself to stay immobile and hoped Sirius would do the same. Awful as it sounded, they all knew that the only one that truly mattered in this circle of fire was Harry.

"Have you gone soft after all these years with that old fool? _Crucio_!" Voldemort taunted Severus. "Or does the boy remind you of someone? Oh, I remember you grovelling before me. _Don't kill the girl, please don't kill_ _Lily_…"

Remus' shield faltered for a second, but then he quickly reinforced it. _Lily. Off course._ That is why Severus came back to our side, that is why Dumbledore never questioned his loyalty... Perhaps it was even the reason why he seemed so willing to die for Harry. _Because he had truly loved Lily._ He longed to turn around and see what Sirius and Harry made out of all of this, but he couldn't do it. He was compelled to watch the fight unfold itself until the end.

Severus made a last desperate attempt on Voldemort's life before he was disarmed and held up in a chokehold. Only the tip of his toes reached the floor and it would soon be over. Remus mentally braced himself. The moment Severus fell to the floor, he would step up to replace him. Not that he had any delusions he would last any longer than his childhood nemesis._ On the contrary_…

Behind him Harry and Sirius were struggling. "Let me go, Sirius. Can't you see he's hurting him? He's mindraping him!"

"And what? You're going to help him?" Remus yelled over his shoulder, annoyed by the interruption. "If you hex him now, Severus will be the one we hurt."

"But we have to help him!" Harry pleaded. "Are you just going to let him die?!"

_Yes._ But before they had to confront Harry with that uncomfortable truth, that _yes they would all sacrifice themselves for him and he would very well let them_, a surprisingly calm voice interrupted them.

"Let him go, Tom. It's me you want to fight with." With those words Dumbledore stepped trough the ring of fire as if it was non-existent. Remus had never been so relieved to see anyone in his life.

"Out in a minute, Albus. Just taking out the trash." Voldemort sneered in response. Seconds later Severus unconscious body (Please God let him be unconscious) flew through the air and landed in a bloody heap near to Remus.

"Sirius, take over the shield." He yelled out. He needed to see if he could save Severus and between the both of them, he was more qualified to heal. Harry rushed over to help, but had to turn away to retch. Remus couldn't blame the boy, Severus' battered body looked awful. Deep bloody gashed covered his body and his left arm had been severed completely. If Remus' monthly expeditions hadn't conditioned him to blood, he would have lost his dinner as well.

He immediately recognised the hex that had been used. _Sectumsempra_, one of Severus' very own creations. It seemed like Voldemort knew the meaning of the word irony. Luckily Dumbledore had made the Potions master hand over each and every spell he had created and their counters. His life wasn't lost just yet. Remus needed to focus on the worst wounds. He would need help.

"Harry, bind of his left arm so he won't bleed to death." The now very pale boy complied. Remus himself hovered his wand over Severus chest and started chanting in order to close the possibly fatal wound across his heart first. He noticed something metallic shining in his breast pocket. Not wanting it to become stuck into the wound, he very carefully touched it to check it wasn't silver. When his fingertips didn't burn, he quickly removed the item. It had been a pocket watch, now mutilated beyond use. It had taken the brunt of the spell and had protected most of his heart. _Lucky bastard._ He put it away so he could concentrate again on healing him.

Meanwhile Dumbledore had engaged Voldemort. Remus could only hear the sounds of the curses that struck and missed, but noticed it was a more equally balanced fight: blow against blow, hex against hex. The wall of fire began faltering, as Voldemort needed his strength to keep up with Dumbledore. This was their chance.

"Harry," He addressed his young friend who was now binding Severus leg, that had been cut terribly too. When had he learned first aid? Or was he just picking it up as he went along? "When the fire goes out, you run and Floo out of here."

Off course Harry argued. "But I can't leave you here."

Before Remus could snap at him, a large piece of the golden Magical Brethren statue suddenly flew towards them. It hit the shield that Sirius had created around them in the form of a bubble hard. The impact forced had created. It held, but the force of the impact forced his friend to his knees. He cried out in pain.

"Sirius!" Harry ran over to him, supporting him as he got up.

"I'm all right Harry, but listen to Remus. It's you who has to be safe, not us." He waved of the sudden attention.

Knowing his Godfather would convince Harry to do the right thing, Remus focussed his attention back on Severus' wounds. He was worried. Severus wouldn't last long, he had lost too much blood already and was still bleeding out of several gashed. He started chanting again. Severus couldn't die, not now.

Suddenly everything just stopped. It was eerily silent in the great hall and the fire died out so quickly Remus blinked in disbelief.

"What just happened?" He heard Sirius ask.

"He surrendered?" Harry asked in return, also in a state of confusion. Remus kept chanting. What was going on?

Dumbledore came to check up on Severus. The worried look on his face said more then he could express in words. He called on Fawkes, who appeared in a flash. "My dear friend, can you take Severus' to the infirmary?" The bird cooed sadly, grabbed Severus gently by the shoulders (as gently as one could with claws) and flew off.

No longer having a target to point his wand at, Remus, still on his knees, automatically moved to put it away. Dumbledore stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

"No, keep armed. I don't trust this co-called surrender."

Harry chuckled. _Harry chuckled?_ Remus jumped to his feet, Sirus and Dumbledore at his side. Harry, now even more pale than before, leered at them. _That_ wasn't Harry, was it?

"You've lost, old man."

Voldemort! He had possessed Harry. But how? Harry, no Voldemort, twirled his wand between his fingers as if he was bored with the situation. The tone of his voice betrayed his not-so-calm feelings however.

"I already took care of the traitor and now Harry" He gestured at himself with glee, "here can kill the rest of you. But who first? The old meddling Headmaster, the filthy werewolf or his _precious Godfather_." Those last few words were spat out with incredible venom in his voice.

"You were supposed be dead already." He pointed his wand at Sirius. Sirius silently gazed back, with a blank expression on his face. Either his years in Azkaban had made so used to the idea of facing his fears or his best friend had finally gone insane. How could he look in the face of death itself and not even flinch?

"Get out of my Godson's body, Voldemort." He spoke calmly, taking a step closer. Remus cursed silently, his friend _had_ gone insane and would be dead within seconds. But Harry/Voldemort didn't curse him.

In fact, his wand arm began shaking, like it was simultaneously being ordered to aim at Sirius and to put the wand down. Harry was fighting back! It seemed like Dumbledore and Sirius came to the same conclusion. The old Headmaster took advantage of the situation and disarmed Harry with an _Expelliarmus_. Harry/Voldemort started laughing and hissed. "You really think I need that little stick to kill you all?"

Sirus ignored the taunts and stepped close enough to pully Harry into a hug. "C'mon Harry, fight!"

Remus joined the hug. "It's me Harry. Remember me, Remus Lupin?" He started whispering frantically. Remember the _Patronus_-charm I taught you? Use those happy memories, Harry. Remember who you are!"

He had no idea why he was comparing Voldemort to a ruddy Dementor. But Harry needed to remember who truly was so he could push the other one's mind out. Dumbledore obviously agreed with this plan of action, because he too started talking to Harry about himself.

"Remember Hogwarts, Harry? Classes and Quidditch? Remember your friends? They're probably wondering where you are right now. They want you to come back for them. Come back for them, Harry." Remus would not agree to this kind of emotional blackmail in any other circumstance, but it seemed to be working. The thin frame of Harry was shaking, as if he was having a seizure, in their arms. _Merlin, he was still so young…_

"I'm your Godfather, Harry. And I love you. Remus here loves you. James …" Sirius swallowed deep. "Your father, he loved you too Harry. And your mother. They both loved you so much and wanted you to be safe…"

Those words did the trick. Harry/Voldemort let out an ear shattering screech and _something_ emerged from his chest. The force of it knocked the three of them on the ground. Remus scrambled to his knees, just in time to see Voldemort rematerialising in front of them, wand arm stretched out. Dumbledore quickly assumed his own duelling stance. They were ready to at it again.

"He's back!"

In all the commotion none of them had noticed the fireplaces around them starting to heat up and spit out Aurors and Ministry workers. They, some still in pyjamas he noticed absentmindedly, were all staring at the five of them. Four of them stared back.

Voldemort hissed in anger and Disapparated. Remus let out a sigh. It was over and Harry was still alive. Pushing himself to his feet, he smiled when he saw that a kneeled Sirius had pulled a still lying Harry into another bear hug.

Meanwhile Fudge was blabbering about You-know-who returning and how on earth was it possible that he was here at the Ministry. Luckily Dumbledore strode forward to handle the Ministry people. Remus felt exhausted and he knew that explaining this over and over again to those bureaucrats would push him right over the edge.

"That's Sirius Black! The notorious mass murderer." One of the Aurors yelled out before the Headmaster could even speak his first word.

"Arrest him!" Fudge yelled out, his face red with anger and confusion: "And Dumbledore!"

Dumbledore drew out his wand again in an ominous gesture and it was clear the Aurors hesitated before attacking such a powerful man. Happy that they wouldn't act rashly, Dumbledore calmly spoke to Fudge.

"Cornelius. Call of you men, before I hurt them. I'd rather not, but I am not letting you arrest an innocent man and putting him in Azkaban."

The tiny round man spluttered, but the Aurors lowered their wands slightly, willing to hear what Dumbledore had to say. Remus very quietly placed himself between the Aurors and Sirius. He was not loosing his friend now, over a stupid misunderstanding.

"Cornelius." Dumbledore's voice had grown louder and became edged with steel. "You just saw with your own eyes that I have been telling the truth for an entire year. I have never lied to you and it is time that you listened to sense. Voldemort is back and Sirius Black is innocent."

Fudge didn't respond, but his faced managed to morph into a peculiar shade of purple. Dumbledore patiently waited for a response, but Remus was starting to loose his patience. Sirius exploded first.

"Do you need more proof?" He yelled out, still holding Harry in his arms. "Go down to the Department of Mysteries. Two of your not completely incompetent Aurors are holding several Death Eaters captive. Perhaps you ought to go there and offer them some assistance."

_That reminded him! Tonks!_ "Take a Medi-witch!" Remus added, in a voice laced with his concern. "Auror Tonks is injured."

At that news the Aurors gathered sprung into action, almost forgetting that they didn't take orders from strange men who showed up in the Ministry. One of them, Dawlish perhaps, turned to the Minister and asked: "Sir?"

Fudge snapped out: "Go!" before adressing Dumbledore. "All right, you've won. What do we do now?" As if duelling to the death with a evil wizard was something Dumbledore had done just to annoy the Ministry. Remus growled, his growing tiredness making it difficult for him to censure himself.

"We'll talk. But first I sent Harry back to Hogwarts." Without caring what Fudge would say, he turned his back to the Minister and address the three of them.

"Remus, Sirius. Could you bring Harry to the infirmary? Stay there until I return." With a twinkle in his eyes, that made Remus suspect that _this _he did to annoy Fudge, he added. "I don't suspect I'll be gone longer than half an hour, sorting some things out."

Sirius and Harry grinned and he joined in. They made their way to the nearest fireplace, when Remus saw Severus' severed arm laying nearby. His smile faded immediately, this night wasn't over just yet. Signalling Sirius to go on without him, he walked to the arm, wanting to retrieve it for Severus. Perhaps Matron Pomfrey could reattach it?

When he grabbed the arm, the Dark Mark burnt his hand, causing him to drop it. Hissing in pain, he checked his hand for blisters. But there were none. The heat was probably an illusion, he thought. A bloody painful one, though. Suddenly wondered how Severus could stand to have that evil mark on his arm all the time. Not that the man had a choice, he mused. _Once a Death Eater, always a Death Eater._ He was suddenly tempted to leave the arm here, so Severus wouldn't have a permanent reminder of his past. But realising it wasn't his choice to make, he took the arm by the wrist, so the Mark wouldn't touch his flesh. _I promise you_, Severus, he thought by himself, _when you wake up, I will reach for your hand in friendship properly_.

Stepping through the fireplace he arrived in an infirmary bursting with activity. Neville and Ginny were rubbing burn ointment onto Ron's wounds whilst keeping him distracted by talking to him. He seemed a bit confused, but at least he was now awake. Hermione Granger wasn't and looked as still as when they had found her. Remus wondered what hat struck her. Luna was dabbing a cold compress on her forehead and humming softly. Harry sat on the other side of her bed, clutching her hand in his, looking very guilty. Sirius was by his side and talking to him, probably reassuring him that she would be fine.

Matron Pomfrey herself was busy working on Severus' wounds. Fawkes had perched himself on the edge of the bed and guarded the one in his care. When Remus stepped forward, wanting to give Pomfrey Severus' arm, the Phoenix spread his wings and squawked at him. Confused he showed the bird the arm, wanting to prove he meant no harm.

Fawkes drove his beak into the arm, attacking the Dark Mark. He grabbed the arm and flew off with it in a storm of fire. Remus, and every other conscious person in the room stared at the door. Pomfrey broke the haze they were in, cutting through it with her soft but determined words.

"Never mind, it was too late to reattach the arm anyway." She returned to her work bandaging Severus chest. Remus could only catch glimpses of his torso, but it seemed like most wounds were now closed. It was a relief.

"Can I help?" He asked the Healer. She looked him over from top to bottom, before frowning at his figure.

"First drink some Calming Draught. You're shaking on your legs." He noticed that the woman was right and when he went to the medicine cabinet and finished his own, he also brought one for Sirius and Harry.

Madame Pomfrey approved of his actions. "Good. Can you heal Miss Weasleys ankle? I think it's broken. I would have put a splint around it myself, but I just managed to put Miss Granger's interior organs back into their right places before this stupid foolish man fell out of the sky."

Remus ignored the insults, knowing the Healer well enough to know that the harsher she spoke, the more worried she was. "Will he be all right?"

She A_ccio_'d a blood replenishing potion from her cabinet and gently coached it down the unconscious man's throat, before looking up at Remus with big, sad eyes. "I honestly don't know. You-know-who did a lot of damage to him. I… We'll have to see when he wakes up."

If he wakes up, Remus traitorous mind corrected. He nodded at the healer, not needing more details. After all he had witnessed the fight, so he knew very well Severus had been battered beyond what a body was able to bear. And then there were the _Cruciatus_ Curses and the _Legilimency_. Even if he woke up, Severus would likely never be the same again.

He was wallowing in his thoughts, he realised. He decided to be helpful instead and walked over to Ron's bed. He stopped Ginny from fussing over her brother and told her to get on a bed herself. The ankle was indeed broken and after he splinted it, he _Accio'd_ a small vile of Skele-gro for her to drink. Looking over at Neville, he decided to give the boy a dose as well. Severus had already set his nose, but the potion would help the bone heal.

Sirius at the next bed, had shot into action as well, healing the scrapes on Lovegood's face. In tandem they worked to help the students not only heal, but also clean up the blood on themselves and their clothes. It was a small comfort, but Remus felt a little better after he had _Scourgified_ Severus' blood of his clothes.

They all managed to keep themselves rather busy. The only thing they didn't do, was talk about what had happened that evening. The students didn't ask either. They had seen and heard Voldemort, right before they had been sent through. They weren't stupid either and therefore knew where Severus' wounds had came from. They all kept glancing at Harry, glad that he was alive, and at Hermione and Severus, worried that they wouldn't live.

When the fire in the infirmary flared up, everyone looked up to watch the Headmaster arrive.

He first went to check up on Severus, but was rebutted by a hissed "_You_ stay away from him." from Pomfrey. Confused Remus looked at the others to see if they too had noticed this strange rebuff from the Healer. But the others just looked at Dumbledore, waiting for him to speak and explain.

"I'm glad to see that most of you seem to be unharmed. The Aurors have arrived and taken the captured Death Eaters into custody. There will be a hearing tomorrow or the day after, but with all the evidence provided, we can all be assured they'll be spending the next few years in Azkaban."

He looked at them to gauge their response. No one seemed to react, they were all too tired and too worried about their wounded friend and professor to cheer.

"After reinstating me as Headmaster and Head of Wizmagot, he has assured me that he will back my plea for an appeal for Sirius Black." This got some response, mainly from Sirius himself who muttered "About bloody time." Remus snorted at that and Harry flashed him a small reassuring smile.

Dumbledore addressed Sirius "Very good news indeed. But, as we can't trust Cornelius not to do anything rash and put you into custody before the trail, I'm afraid I'll have to ask you to return to your house, Sirius. I don't want anything to happen to you until your name is officially cleared."

Sirius looked like he had just swallowed something sour. Obviously he didn't want to be victim of an accidental Kiss during custody, but being banished back to his prison, just after the promise of freedom had been dangled in front of him, was just cruel. Dumbledore carried on nonetheless.

"Alastor is probably already there. If he isn't, I would like if you contacted me."

In all the confusion Remus had forgotten about the ex-auror. "What happened to him?" He asked suddenly, interrupting whatever the headmaster was about to say.

"Apparently when the rest of you didn't return immediately after he, Miss Granger and Mister Weasley arrived here via Floo, he got worried and hurried back to London. He was unable to enter the Ministry from the outside, so he decided to attack the building in order to make sure the Aurors would show up to check the alarms."

_Or because he was simply frustrated. They didn't call him Mad-Eye for nothing, after all__, _Remus mused amused_._ Several people in the room sniggered at the image of the ex-Auror with the wooden peg leg running around in front of a building, throwing curses and swearing.

"Sirius, can I also ask you to contact the Weasley family? No doubt they have heard something about the attack tonight and are probably worried sick of their children." He gave Ginny and Ron (who was now sitting up in bed) a small smile. "Tell them they are quiet well."

Burns and a broken ankle... Not exactly what he would call well, but then again, it could have been much worse. Remembering the Killing curse that had been cast at Sirius, Remus shuddered. Tonight could have been disastrous.

"Miss Lovegood and Mister Longbottom. Do you wish for us to contact your family as well?"

Luna just shook her head and smiled back at her Headmaster, before returning to care for Hermione. Neville's face flushed, not used to being paid attention to by the Headmaster himself. He too shook his head, only in a more shy fashion. He probably didn't want his grandmother to worry or, more likely, to be mad at him. Poor lad.

With a pat on Harry's back, Sirius rose and went over to the fireplace. He shot Remus a pleading look, asking without words if he would come over tonight. He nodded at his old friend, he would try to visit him as soon as possible. Sirius had spent enough time in that dreadful house already. Moody's company would do nothing do cheer him up, as the paranoid man would most likely start a shouting match with Madame Black's portrait.

"Remus." The Headmaster caught his attention. "If it would not be too great an imposition, could I ask you to stay and help Madame Pomfrey?"

The matron huffed in annoyance. "I can very well manage my own infirmary." Remus didn't doubt her capacity, but the woman did look tired. She had just managed an emergency situation with two very badly wounded patients and a bunch of injured students on her own. She must be exhausted, physically and mentally from performing all those spells.

Pomfrey might have a no-nonsense attitude and most students disliked her bedside manner, but Remus (one of her frequent visitors) knew as no other that the woman cared about all her patients. She was probably terrified that Severus would die in her care. And looking at the very pale prone figure in the bed beside her, blood seeping through the bandages and a ghastly looking slash across his face, Remus understood the sentiment.

"You need to sleep as well. I can take the night shift if you want." He offered.

The Healer gave him a sarcastic look. "I wasn't the one in a fight only hours ago. I'll manage. _You_ need to find a bed before you collapse." Remus held her stare: she wasn't a young intern herself any more. She needed her rest as well. Pomfrey gave him an irritated wave.

"All right then. When you've slept, and I mean at least a good night's worth of it, you can come back and keep vigil."

"And then you'll take a nap." Dumbledore added, now also slightly worried about his employee's health. Pomfrey glared at the both of them, but nodded. "If Severus and Miss Granger are stable."

"Then you too can retire." Dumbledore dismissed him. Remus nodded and walked towards the fireplace. At least Sirius would be glad to see him, now he too had been sent away. "Perhaps you can pass by St. Mungo's to check on Miss Tonks. I'm sure she would love a visitor." The headmaster told his back. Stiffening slightly he walked straight on, refusing to turn around. He didn't trust himself not to hex his old Headmaster if he had (and he would have, no doubt about that) twinkling eyes after that remark.

_No good, romantically inclined busy-body_, he muttered under his breath as the fire took him to Sirius' house.

Mad-Eye had already left, to the relief of both men currently residing in Grimmauld place. Remus did have a place to call his own, but that place could also be called many other names, none of them flattering. If he had the chance, he stayed with his best friend. He even had his own room in this house.

Unfortunately, today said best friend was in a very bad mood. After a half an hour of bitching and moaning about Dumbledore and his many mistakes, Remus felt the urge to dose him with a sleeping draught for a little peace and quiet. Yes, he agreed that the Order should have told Harry and the others about the prophesy. Yes, if Harry had known, tonight's fiasco wouldn't have happened. Yes, Dumbledore had practically sent them to their rooms, like when they were first years. The list of complaints went on and on.

Remus eventually gave Sirus a glass of Ogden's finest, hoping the alcohol would slow him down. He understood his frustrations. Most of them he shared: Harry should have been told. Harry wasn't a carbon copy of James, but he did have his impulsivity. Add in his mother sense of justice of loyalty and you had a very dangerous combination. Dumbledore should have known Harry would put himself between his friends and danger. So why hadn't he told Harry? And why hadn't he taught Harry Occlumency himself? Prophesy or not, Remus would prefer to see his unofficial nephew survive puberty and Dumbledore wasn't helping in that regard.

And how had he angered Pomfrey? She wasn't an easy person, but she had always respected Dumbledore (like he did). It was related to Severus, because she clearly was protecting him. Did the Headmaster do or say anything to hurt Severus? Or was she just angry that Severus had been hurt so badly in his fight with his former master. Dumbledore had asked him to return to spying, but Severus had agreed, hadn't he?

Remus sighed. He was no fan of Severus. The events in their childhood and Severus consequent refusal to leave things in the past (_not that Sirius was any better_) had sabotaged any attempt at polite contact in the present. The man was bitter and vicious and took out his anger on others, even his students. The man was brilliant though, he couldn't deny that. His NEWT-scores were of the charts and he managed to become a Potions Master in less than three years. His knowledge of dark spells and their counters had helped many of the Order to fight back during the first war. His potions had healed even more. He had spied then and he had spied now, even though he was in danger every time he faced that monster. Remus couldn't even imagine how it would feel to prostrate himself before Voldemort each time, hoping to hear something of use and not to be killed in the process. Had anyone, besides Dumbledore off course, ever even thanked him?

He sighed again and longed for his own glass of Ogden's fire whiskey. "He saved your life, you know." He told Sirius without any warning that he was going to change the subject. But Sirius understood immediately who he was talking about and groan loudly.

"I know." Grimmauld Place fell silent for a while.

"Why was he even there?" Sirius asked, without any ill feeling towards Severus. "Kingsley told him to go back to Hogwarts." Realising that he too had disobeyed Kinsley's orders to stay put, he grinned embarrassed at his friend. "I suppose I can't blame him for that."

Remus smiled at the honest admission. "I suppose you can't." But that didn't answer the initial question. Severus usually wasn't the disobedient kind. "Maybe Dumbledore sent him?" He offered.

"No," was the immediate answer. "Dumbledore was shocked when he recognised Severus." Remus looked up in surprise. He hadn't noticed that. "You were occupied with the shield." Sirius explained.

"Then I haven't the foggiest why Severus decided to show up."

Sirius shrugged and stood. He fetched a second glass and filled both glasses. "A toast," he raised his glass, "To Sniv.. To Severus Snape. A very unlikely hero."

Remus raised his glass as well and added: "May he survive the night." He only sipped his glass, but Sirius emptied it in one quick gulp.

"I'm going to bed." Sirius then announced. Off course, that night and two (or were it three?) glasses of pure alcohol was enough to tire out any normal man. Not him though, Remus thought with dark sarcasm, the wolf within often gave him extra strength and sleepless nights.

"I'm going for a walk." He said. If Sirius was serious about going to bed, he didn't want to keep him awake with his pacing. An idea formed in his mind. "Maybe I'll stop by St. Mungo's. Dumbledore told me they brought Dora there."

"Ooh." Sirius hummed, with twinkles in his eyes. _Merlin, what was up with all those twinkly eyes_? Remus suspected that his friend would have burst into song, if he hadn't been so tired: _Remus and Dora sitting in a tree…_ A hasty retreat was in order. "Goodbye Sirius."

Remus was not blind. He too had noticed the looks Dora had been giving him. The girl was clearly interested him, although he couldn't figure out for the live of him _why_. He wasn't attractive, not at all. And she could do so much better. She was everything he was not. She was a successful Auror, where he could not keep a job for more than a few months. She could change her appearances at will, where he was forced into another detested body each month. She was graceful (when not bumping into things, off course) and beautiful and young and just about perfect. She also liked a challenge. Where most women ran when he started courting them (even if they didn't know about his 'problem'), _she_ had her mind set on courting_ him_.

Walking and musing, Remus arrived at the doorstep of St. Mungo's on automatic pilot. But the smell of medicinal potions emanating from the building snapped him out of his thoughts quickly. Muggle of Magical, Remus mused, hospitals always smelled the same. The only difference he could feel, was the faint residue of magic in the air, from all the monitoring and healing spells performed in the building.

Remus was a true hospital-veteran. Though he hadn't been to St. Mungo's until after he had started his magical education, he had been in and out of several hospitals in his youth. His parents had decided to live like Muggles after their son had been bitten. Whether it was out of love or guilt, the decision had made life easier for Remus. His parents had simply browsed through a Muggle encyclopaedia and came up with a list of diseases that convinced everyone in their neighbourhood Remus was a very sick boy and he had to be homeschooled. When people started to get curious, they simply moved to another neighbourhood. No one in the Muggle world knew about his _furry little problem_ and those in the Magical world who had known about his father's acquaintance with Greyback, had never connected the dots.

He had returned from yet another emergency room (a broken arm this time) when the owl with his Hogwarts letter came. He didn't understand why his mother had cried, then. But Dumbledore had come over personally to assure his parents that he could come to Hogwarts, with some restrictions (like the Shrieking Shack every month). Remus owed Dumbledore for a lot. Without him, his life would have been terrible. No magic, no education, no childhood friends, … He would go to hell and back if Dumbledore asked him. But he would also make sure that the Headmaster didn't put Harry in the same position.

He snuck past the reception, sure that the hospital wouldn't allow visitors at this late hour. He didn't need direction, he knew very well where a person with broken bones and a concussion would end up. He found her room without any problems.

"Wotcher Dora." He greeted her.

"Remus!" Her face lit up with joy. Part of him enjoyed the attention, while another part of him cursed: he really shouldn't encourage her crush. When she started asking questions about what had happened after they had split ways, he pushed his own feelings aside.

Dora was worried. According to her, the other Aurors hadn't been that forthcoming and had been more interested in questioning her than in answering questions. And then she had been hauled of to the Healers.

Remus quickly explained what had happened after they left Kinsley and Tonks. Finding the other children, Flooing them out and being stopped by Voldemort. Severus fighting and almost dying, before Dumbledore saved them all. He also stressed that everyone, except for Hermione and Severus were already healed.

"Who cursed Hermione?" Dora asked, still worried.

"Dolohov." Before she could stress even more, he quickly added that Pomfrey had already healed her and she would be fine after a strict regiment of potions to counter the spell.

"And Snape?" Tonks had survived seven years of Potions and detentions under his tutelage, but now she spoke his name with absolute respect. Once, after a few butterbeers they had shared, she had confided in him that she thought he still was a right bastard, but that she was glad that he was on their side. After all, she had giggled at that point, once she had survived basic training with Mad-Eye, she had realised that not everyone had the patience to teach.

Before he could break her spirits even further with the news that nobody knew how or even if Snape would wake up, a Healer walked into the room.

"Auror Tonks? We have a sleeping drau…" He noticed that they weren't alone in the room. Tonks and Remus exchanged looks. _Busted_.

"I'm erm… just a visitor." _Did he just stutter?_

"I'll be going then." He tried to walk past the Healer, but the man grabbed his arm rather tight.

"Oh no you don't." With his wand he cast a quick monitoring charm. "You were involved in the fight as well?"

Remus stayed quiet, neither denying nor confirming his presence at the Ministry. He didn't know what coverstory Dumbledore would tell the press. Perhaps it was best if the Order stayed out of the public eye and Aurors Tonks and Shacklebolt had saved the day. The Healer rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Fine, be that way. But you are not leaving tonight, you're exhausted after using unhealthy amounts of magic." The shield, Remus realised. He had cast a huge shield around three people. That alone would have put a dent in his magical abilities. And then he had tried to heal Severus. The only reason he was still on his feet, was probably the enormous amount of adrenaline that had spread through his body. He nodded in defeat. He would be of no use to anyone if he fainted in the middle of the road.

The healer nodded content and quickly transfigured the chair for visitors into another hospital bed. He pointed at it and ordered: "Sleep." Then he left.

_Great_, Remus thought, when he saw the bed that the bed had been placed only inches away from Dora's. _Even a complete stranger has picked up on her feelings for him._ He could hardly push the bed away now, it would hurt her feeling. He ignored the little voice inside of him that cheered at the chance of spending the night close to a beautiful young woman.

"You'd better listen." Tonks said amused. "I suspect he'll wrestle you down if you're not in bed within the hour."

Remus gave up and crashed on the bed. "Ow." He cried out when an object in his trouser pocket disagreed with his decision.

"Are you hurt?" Tonks asked, worried.

Remus simply shook his head. "It's just Severus' watch. I had to remove it from his vest pocket when I healed him." He took it out of his pocket. The top lid fell of and he saw that it wasn't an ordinary watch, but a rare family watch. _But who would he be tracking?_ His curiosity got the better of him and he rummaged to the wreckage until he found the hand.

He froze. _Hermione Granger_. Why was a man who was old enough to be Hermione's father following her around? Was he some kind of a pervert stalker? Or had he already seduced the poor girl. His anger renewed his strength and he was very close to run out and Apparate to Hogsmeade so he could question the bastard!

Tonks laid a hand on his arm and he calmed immediately. "Remus, what's wrong?"

"Severus is who's wrong!" He snapped at her. "The pervert has been following her with a family watch."

When she didn't answer with disgust, he looked at her in surprise. Had she known about this travesty? She held the top lid in her left hand, and was tracking the engraving on it with her right index finger.

"Remus." She said, "Hermione is adopted. Her parents gave her a necklace just like this."

His mouth fell open with shock. But, that meant… Tonks was the first to speak their suspicions out loud.

"I think Snape's her biological father."


	11. Chapter 11 : Making plans for summer

**Chapter 11 : ****Making plans for summer**

Harry was mechanically cutting his food and stuffing it into his mouth. If anyone asked him later what he had eaten, he probably wouldn't remember. He didn't really care about the taste. The only thing he wanted to do, was to clear his plate and get out of the Great Hall as soon as possible. If it had been his choice, he wouldn't even be here, but he had promised Dumbledore to join his class mates for dinner.

The day before he had tried his best to avoid people after he, Neville, Luna and Ginny had been released from the infirmary. Hiding in the library had worked best, but visiting Hagrid had been nice too. After he had convinced the half-giant he really did not want to talk about the battle at the Ministry, Hagrid had gone out of his way to provide idle conversation about unicorns and Nifflers. Off course Harry had also taken the time to visit his friends, Ron and Hermione, who were still stuck in the infirmary.

He had been beyond relief when he had heard Hermione's voice the previous morning. After that horrible night, it had been the pick-me-up that he needed. Between Malfoy Senior's taunts and Dumbledore's more detailed explanations, he had felt so stupid for not realising it had been a trap. Hermione had even warned him, but he had convinced her to join nevertheless. His rational mind tried to sooth him with the knowledge that they had at least tried to check if Sirius was still in Grimmauld. His guilt however made him forget all about Kreacher's betrayal and liked to torment him with the image of Hermione's lifeless body. She hadn't been the only one that had gotten hurt. Neville had been tortured with the same curse that had driven his parents mad. Ron had gone temporarily insane. Snape had almost been killed in the most vicious way…

Snape. For a second, Harry's hands stilled above his plate. Often the actions of the Potions Professor baffled him, but right now Harry was truly mystified. Snape, who hated him and Sirius endlessly (and after seeing his memory in the pensieve, Harry could understand to a certain degree), had showed up in the nick of time and had saved their lives. No matter how he felt about greasy git, he would be forever in his debt for that. He was curious however: he couldn't figure _why_ Snape had come to the Ministry. He had even asked Dumbledore about it, but the Headmaster didn't have a clue either.

That morning the Headmaster had invited him to his office for another quick chat. The Aurors had finished interrogating the Death Eaters that had been captured. Bellatrix Lestrange had revealed that she had been ordered to kill Sirius. Voldemort's plan was to devastate Harry with the loss to make the possession easier. At the news, Harry had lost his temper. In a fit of rage, he had pushed several items off Dumbledore's desk. At the time, seeing the odd artefacts crash to the ground and break had been enjoyable. Now, he only felt ashamed. The Headmaster had smiled at him sadly and told him he had every right to feel angry and frustrated. The words had brought him back to himself and he had fled from the office.

Instead he had spent the rest of his morning in the Room of Requirement, blasting away at the endless set of practicing targets the room provided. Feeling slightly better, he had then slumped onto the black leather couch, that hadn't been there before. He had thought long and hard: about the battle that had happened, about the Death Eaters, about the Order, … and about the Prophesy.

_Kill or be killed._ Fancy language and smoky voices might be impressive, but meaning of the words was quite simple. He had almost driven himself mad going over the words over and over again, trying to make sense of it.

Then he realised: why did he care so much? Did it really matter _why_ he had been chosen or what _his power that the Dark Lord has not_ was. Voldemort had declared war on Wizardkind long before he had even been born. In fact, if Voldemort had chosen to ignore the prophesy, he might even have won already. Instead, he had tried to kill a one-year-old (killing his parents in the process) and had suffered a set-back of 15 years.

Voldemort had made a mistake focussing on the prophesy. Perhaps Harry shouldn't make the same mistake. Instead of accepting he was the Chosen one, he tried to imagine himself as a just another soldier. No man alone could end this war, but if the entire Order worked together they stood a fair fighting chance. If the Death Eaters kept coming after him, so be it. Maybe they could use it to their advantage and set up a trap of their own.

He realised now that he wasn't the only one in constant danger. His friends too, could be attacked any moment just because of who they are: Hermione because she was a Muggleborn, Ron and his family because they were bloodtraitors, Remus because he's a werewolf, … Everyone was a possible target. That was the true meaning of war. They should learn to fight, if they wanted to survive. And if Voldemort came after him again, he would be waiting for him, wand drawn.

He had already asked Remus, who popped in and out of the castle to help Madam Pomfrey, to send him books on Defense to read during the summer. The actual casting of new spells would have to wait until September. _Stupid underage ban on magic._ He wondered who the new Defense teacher would be and if he could be of any use. He, or she maybe, couldn't possible be worse than Umbridge. Then again, given Dumbledore's track record, Harry didn't have high hopes. Maybe they could restart the D.A., just in case.

He had spent the entire day in the Room of Requirement, alternating between training and thinking. By the time he had sat down for his dinner, he could feel several muscles ache. He would have to work on his physical fitness as well. Maybe he should start to running again this summer. He used to be the fastest kid in school. Mostly he had ran a lot out of self-preservation (a thinner Dudley had been fast and so was Ripper). Quidditch was good for his arms, but he had been ignoring the rest of him. That would have to change.

As his plate vanished into thin air and a dessert appeared, Harry had to keep back the smile that threatened to break through. Rather unexpectedly, he had started to look forward to summertime and even to living with the Dursleys… He hoped they would like it, a quiet Harry in his room surrounded with books. They could ignore him and he could ignore them. After the last two days, a place to be ignored seemed rather like heaven.

He was used to being stared at ever since his first year. Awe, respect, fear, doubt, … he had gotten every look imaginable over the years. It was getting really old. He could understand that everyone was curious. He would be too. Yesterday's paper had only been able to report a "disturbance" in the Ministry, but today's had been full of details of Death Eaters attacking the Ministry. The brave Aurors Tonks and Shacklebolt had stopped them and the illustrious Lucius Malfoy had been killed in the process. Combined with the the return of Voldemort and Fudge's subsequent embarrassment, that days' Prophet had been the fattest in years. Dumbledore had managed to keep the Order out of the official story, but the paper had also included rumours about Harry Potter fighting for his life. His fellow students weren't dumb and had put the clues together.

Not everyone stared at him in awe or wanted to hear about his "heroic actions". A lot of the Slytherin students were glaring at him in anger. Goyle in particular looked as if he wanted to kill him with his bare hands. Harry wasn't too worried. His leader, Malfoy had been sent home to grieve with his mother. Crabbe and Nott were missing too. Harry didn't think Goyle would start something on his own.

He did feel an unexpected twinge of sympathy for Malfoy. When Lucius Malfoy had died, he had only felt instant relieve that Sirius hadn't been hit with the killing curse. Harry wasn't sorry that he had died. He had met the elder Malfoy. before and knew very well that the man was evil. He did know however, how it felt to loose a parent. He wouldn't wish that feeling on the worst of his enemies...

Neville and Ginny had been at his side the entire dinner. He was glad for their silent support. Everybody knew that Ginny had a quick temper, so nobody had dared to bother them with questions yet. He just hoped that the hesitance would remain until the train left two days later.

Suddenly he felt a hand on his shoulder. Chagrined he spun around, only to stare right into the eyes of Luna Lovegood.

"Oh. Hi Luna."

"Hi Harry, Neville, Ginny." She said with a dreamy tone in her voice. Harry didn't ask Luna if anyone had bothered her with questions. He knew most of her year ignored her, because she was a bit "odd." As far as he was concerned, that was their mistake. Luna was a great person to know, even if he didn't understand her half of the time. At least she never stared.

"I'm going to the infirmary after dinner." She said. "Do you want to join me?"

Ginny and Neville agreed immediately. Harry hesitated with some amount of guilt. He hadn't visited his friends that day. On the other hand, he had planned to talk with Dumbledore after dinner. If he left it to later, he couldn't be sure the Headmaster would still be there. Between the School, the Wizenmagot and the Order, Dumbledore had been very busy.

"I can't. The Headmaster asked to see me." It was a lie. Not wanting to look at his friends, he turned his gaze towards the Head table. Dumbledore caught his eyes, read his glance and nodded. _Well, that solved that_. The others saw the unspoken communication and didn't offer any comment. Apparently it was no longer extraordinary for Harry to have meetings with the Headmaster. As they all were finished, Harry told them to go. He waved their worries away; surely he would be left alone a few moments more.

He wanted to leave too and get away from all the looks, but the Headmaster was still enjoying his dessert. Worse than sitting here and being stared at was being stared at while waiting in front of a closed door with an annoyed gargoyle nagging for a password. So he waited and pretended to toy with the cake still on his plate. It wouldn't do for people to think he wasn't eating anymore. In between tiny nibbles he stole glances at the teachers' table.

The configuration of the table had changed drastically in the last few days. Dumbledore was back in his seat, as a king holding court. Unfortunately many people were now missing. He wasn't sorry to see Umbridge go. Dumbledore had rescued her from the Centaurs the day before. After a quick check-up in the infirmary, Pomfrey had send her to St. Mungo's to recover. McGonagall was still in the hospital. He assumed that Hagrid would return as soon as someone got a message out to wherever he was hiding.

Snape was still in the infirmary. Remus and Pomfrey had assured him that physically Snape was out of danger. Between the two of them and Fawkes, they had healed every cut on his body. They were just waiting for him to wake up now. Harry didn't share their optimistic view. He knew how it felt to have Snape ripping though his mind. He didn't even want to imagine what it would be like if Voldemort was the attacker. Snape had spoken about Voldemort unhinging the mind of his enemies. Harry only hoped that if Snape woke up, he did so in complete control of himself.

The guilt he had felt before returned tenfold. His professor would not have been hurt if he hadn't fallen for the trap. He had come to another conclusion that afternoon: training himself to fight for the Light, to defend himself and his friends, also meant defending his thoughts. Occlumency, as much as he hated subject, was necessary. Dumbledore had assured him that night that he wouldn't have to worry about visions or attempts at possession anymore. _Because he had fought Voldemort with love._

Harry resisted the urge to snort. Fat load of good love would be the next time he stood face to face with his Voldemort. Thinking of his friends was all right when conjuring a Patronus charm, but it wouldn't help him against a Cruciatus Curse. Besides, Voldemort had already found a way around the "no-touching" rule, so what would keep him from finding another way to access his mind…

And Voldemort wasn't the only problem. If he, Dumbledore and Snape could perform Legilimency, there could be others. Harry wasn't a member of the Order yet, but he did know certain things that were dangerous if the Death Eaters ever found out: the location of headquarters, the names of several members, the words to the _prophesy._ If he was captured – and after being caught by fake-Moody and even Umbridge's Inquisitors' Squid he could hardly argue that would never happen – any Legilimens would be able to filter the information out of his mind. Then again, every Potions Master with a bottle of Veritaserum could force him to do the same.

Suddenly the magnitude of fighting in this war caught up with him and it overwhelmed him. A tiny mistake, one careless word could muck up everything… He felt a panic attack approaching…

_Control your emotions, Potter. If you can't control your emotions, they will control you. And He'll use them against you._

Bloody great time to have Snape on his mind, Harry thought. But his inner Potions Master was right. There was really no use in panicking _now _about things that _can_ happen. Don't panic, think. Prepare for the worst. Train to defend yourself. Learn to remain cool in every situation. And fight for your life if all else fails. The panic receded and he felt the calmness he needed return. He could do this. He would do this.

He felt a new pair of eyes upon him. Without turning around he knew it was Dumbledore. He rose quickly, nodding at Seamus and Dean before disappearing. He took a deep breath before following the Headmaster to his office. He had a job to do tonight: convincing Dumbledore to give him Occlumency lessons.

He had the feeling it wasn't going to be that easy.

* * *

This was part of a bigger chapter with a change of point of view. As the next part took forever to write (spoiler: Snape awakens!), I decided to post this smaller part. Just so you know I really am still working on the story. I think, in the future, smaller chapters will be the way to go.


	12. Chapter 12 : Awakenings

**AN: **Here you have it: the chapter that refused to be written. I finally conquered it.

* * *

**Chapter 12 : ****Awakenings **

Hermione sighed. It had been a good 35 hours since she had woken up in the infirmary and she was now officially bored. Thanks to the vicious spell Dolohov had cast on her, Madam Pomfrey had worried enough to order her to stay in bed. And the nurse really meant it. After being threatened several times with sticking charms, Hermione had given up and complied, even though she knew that by now she should be able to move.

It was annoying though. The friends who visited them the last two days, had been thrown out several times for disturbing her piece. Even the teachers, who too had visited her and Ron, but mostly their unconscious colleague, had been forbidden from "exiting her" by giving her the summer homework assignments or even some reading material. She sighed again. What wouldn't she give for a textbook to read right now! Even Divination would be better than counting the beds, the windows and the ceiling tiles, _again._ Her cat had abandoned her as well. After being petted and cuddled the entire afternoon, her orange friend had decided to stretch his legs. She didn't think he was coming back soon.

She did understand why the Matron was being so fussy now. Her bedside manner had always been a bit forceful and even unsympathetic (especially if the wounds were self-inflicted or Quidditch-related), but these last few days she had been acting rather erratic. One moment she was very gently tending to Ron's burns, the next she was screeching at Neville because he had sneezed too loudly.

The others thought she was this mad due to sleep deprivation. She probably hadn't slept at all the last few days. The Headmaster had put his foot down and invited Remus over to keep watch over them that night. Even though Remus followed the ridiculous "no-moving-rule", Ron and Hermione were relieved.

Hermione knew that the next morning the Matron would act exactly the same, having slept or not. The older woman was worried out of her mind and she wouldn't stop being worried until Professor Snape woke up. Hermione felt exactly the same way, for slightly different reasons though, but she understood the anxiousness quite well. If only she were allowed to move, Hermione would harbour no ill feelings towards the Matron.

At the next bed, Remus' bishop took one of Ron's knights on the chess board, both man and chess piece whooping with glee. The noise woke up the tiny figure that had fallen asleep at the foot of her own bed. Another reason to feel peevish towards the Matron.

"Whazzit?" Morphy, the Infirmary Elf asked groggily.

Honestly, ordering a House Elf to baby-sit her! What did Madam Pomfrey expect? That she'd start to dance the Macarena as soon as she turned her back?

"Nothing, Morphy. Go back to sleep, I don't have to take the Blood-replenisher until 11 tonight."

That had been the official excuse off course: she needed Morphy around so she wouldn't forget to take her potions. As if.

Luckily the Elf listened to her and closed its eyes again. Hermione was relieved. She already was worried about Snape's physical health and Harry's mental health (he had evaded her questions the previous day and hadn't even shown up today). She didn't want add guilt for keeping poor Morphy up to her list of emotions.

She liked the little Elf. Not that the Morphy wanted to be free or even wanted to listen to Hermione about freedom. She liked serving in the Infirmary and was rather vocal about it. Hermione didn't mind: Morphy debated in proper English, while wearing a proper, clean uniform. Morphy might be Pomfrey's servant (Hermione refused to think about the Elves in terms of slaves – not that they weren't), but she was treated right.

Elf liberation might be Hermione's ideal endgame, but she was willing to settle for humane treatment and absence of horrid punishments. _Like ironing one's hands._ She shivered. It wouldn't be easy off course. She had already scared most of the school Elves away by acting rashly, but Morphy and Dobby could speak on her behalf. If she could change the way of things in Hogwarts, the rest of the Wizard World might follow. She'd have some trouble convincing the conservatives in the Ministry to change the laws (if people like Fudge and Umbridge were any indication of who exactly worked there), but she perhaps she could …

She chuckled softly. _There she went again with her plans_. Her amusement faded quickly. Perhaps she shouldn't make elaborate plans for the future. After all, they were at war now. Or, even more correctly put, they had been at war for a while... She only just realised how dangerous it was for those involved.

The battle – they called it that, because it had been more than just an improvised fight – had rattled them all. She felt it herself – almost dying had been quite the wake-up call – and she saw it in the eyes of her friends. Mostly she noticed it in Harry. Then again, he had faced Voldemort that night for the fifth time and survived. If anyone deserved to be a bit rattled, it was him. It didn't mean he was proud of his _victory_. He knew… _they all_ knew that it could have gone very differently. Merlin, six teenagers again fully grown and trained Dark Arts wizards. They could have died…

Snape could still die…

For the umpteenth time that day, she checked the bed on her right-hand side. Her professor slash guardian slash _question mark_ still hadn't moved since she had woken up the day before. She didn't really need to look at him again, she had studied him enough to have his likeness embedded on her corneas. He was pale, paler than usual, giving him the appearance of a corpse. His long black hair had been brushed from his face, when Madame Pomfrey had reset his nose. A thin ugly scar, fiery red as if it was burning, marred his face; spanning from his left eye straight down to his chin. His right cheek bore a smaller scar, that was already fading. Unlike the other, it looked like a nick that could have been made during a shave.

A sheet had been drawn over his naked torso, in an attempt to preserve his privacy. Hermione could only see the top of his chest: some chest hair and the beginning of another nasty scar. Pomfrey always shielded his bed when she applied salve to his wounds, but from what Harry had told her about the cutting curse Voldemort had used, she imagined that his chest was a veritable crossroads of scars.

Madam Pomfrey had answered all her questions about his health, which was both comforting and surprising. Next to the loss of his left arm and a sprained knee, he was in a rather good physical state. Ginny had told her, slightly in awe, how Fawkes, Dumbledore's phoenix that had saved Harry in their second year, had flown in to the infirmary and had ever so softly lowered Snape to a bed. The magical bird had sat there, cried and sung quietly until Remus had returned with the severed arm. Pomfrey had explained in detail how Fawkes had donated two tears: one for the life-threatening wound across his heart and one for the stump of his left arm. Pomfrey had mended the other wounds and had fed him potions to make up for the blood loss. He should be fine, when he woke up.

_If_ he woke up… Madam Pomfrey didn't understand why he was still asleep and had fretted the entire day. Dumbledore himself had consoled her and had reminded them that he had been attacked on a mental level as well. "Perhaps he's in a healing sleep," he had suggested. A coma, Hermione's Muggle inner voice corrected. Pomfrey was still worried.

As was Hermione. She would be worried for Snape, even if she only knew him as her mean Potions Professor. After all, he had been injured, trying (and succeeding) to save them. They all were holding out for him to live, even Ron who had never liked him.

But he was something more than just her professor, wasn't he? Even more than her assigned guardian. But who was he to her? Had he followed them because of her? And why had Pomfrey answered all her questions honestly, if she only was his student?

When he had cancelled their guardian sessions together (well, not exactly cancelled, but rescheduled them until further notice), she had been surprised. Around the same time Harry's Occlumency lessons had stopped abruptly. Harry had never told them exactly why, but she knew it had been a falling-out of sorts (Harry wasn't usually evasive when asked questions and Snape's temper during classes had been even worse than usual). She put two and two together and assumed Snape had painted her and Harry with the same brush and had gotten rid of the both of them.

Later she had realised that she had used faulty logic. Yes, Snape always treated her and her Housemates as little pests, but Harry held a special place in his disdain. During their Sunday sessions he had never yelled at her or insulted her. Spending time together was awkward, but never uncomfortable or painful. He had even been polite on occasion and had even sent for tea once. He would have never done that for Harry. And he had never turned his new and improved sadism loose on her during class. (She, however, was not exempt from his normal brand of sarcasm.)

So it stood to reason that there had been a different reason, separate from Harry's expulsion, for him to start ignore his newfound potions minion. She had racked her brain looking for a reason. After all, she had always been polite to him and had tried not to insult him in any way.

It hadn't been until the day before her Charms' examination that she had remembered what had happened in the infirmary. Off course, she had been Confounded by those two seventh years at that time, so her memories had been rather hazy. But she remembered him staring at her… at her pendant.

Either Snape knew who her biological parents were or he was her biological father. Both options were scary. The former meant that that she was the offspring or accident or Death Eaters. Being Snape's daughter was less horrifying. At least he was one of the Order now. (If there was any doubt, Fawkes' rescue had proved that once and for all). But the fact that he had ignored her since the discovery scared her. Either he never wanted her or he was too ashamed of how he had gotten her…

At the time she had put the thoughts quickly out of her mind. It wasn't as if she could stroll down to the dungeons and ask Snape if he was her _daddy_… Instead she had allowed herself to be swept up by examination anxieties and her friends.

Only now she had had two days to lie on her back and do nothing else but think. The others hadn't helped either: they had spun theory after theory on the subject of Snape coming to their rescue. They had told her how he had gently picked her up and carried her to the Great Hall. That didn't sound like the actions of someone who didn't care… And then there was Madame Pomfrey's behaviour to consider. She had informed Hermione of Snape's condition, like any doctor would do for the next of kin. What did Pomfrey know? And who else knew?

"Harry?" Ron suddenly yelled out in surprise. He and Remus had been so caught up in their game, like Hermione had been in her thoughts, that none of them had noticed Harry entering the infirmary.

"What are you doing here? Are you hurt?" Remus switched back into his role of ad interim Healer.

"Just a headache." Harry said, with one of his disarming smiles. Hermione had never been so glad to see it. Her friend was all right! While Remus fetched the necessary potions, Harry drew up a chair. When handed the vial, he quickly gulped down the medicine.

"Not that I want to kick you out, Harry. But it's after curfew…"

"It's all right, Remus. Dumbledore wrote me a note." He waved a bit of parchment in front of him. "He all but ordered me to visit you guys."

Hermione couldn't care less about who had decided what. Harry was here and he wasn't depressed like he had been the day before.

"I convinced him to give me an Occlumency lesson. I don't want to have that bastard in my head any more." Leave it to Harry to cut straight to the point. In any other circumstance she would have chastised him for the language, but now she was more than pleased with his adult decision. She didn't want the bastard connected to Harry's mind either.

"So that's where you've got the headache from, then?" Ron asked. "It always hurts, having your mind get read?"

Harry grimaced and snuck a peak at Snape's resting form, like he was worried his teacher would jump up and start yelling at him. Ron had referenced to their conversation that Snape was making the lessons painful for him on purpose.

"It's actually worse now than before." He softly admitted. "Snape did it kind of sneaky, like a burglar rifling through your stuff. The Headmaster just barged in like he owned the place."

"Like a true Gryffindor." Remus compared proudly.

"Like a bloody bludger." Harry grumbled, rubbing his scar. Again Hermione didn't correct his language. She too would prefer the Slytherin approach in those circumstances.

"And did it work? Did you learn something?" She asked.

"No. I've managed to throw out Snape a couple of times, but Dumbledore was too overwhelming." He sighed frustrated. "It's not like they tell me _how_ to do it. It's like they think if they keep at it long enough, I'll magically be able to figure it out."

That did sound exasperating. And it explained why Harry thought Snape didn't really wanted him to learn.

"Why don't they explain?" She asked confused. They were teachers, weren't they? Why don't they teach?

"I don't think they know how too." Remus gently said. "Occlumency and Legilemency are very rare arts. Like Animagi, you have to have a certain talent for it. Dumbledore is a very powerful wizard, maybe he's a natural. And Snape…" He hesitated. "Well if he hadn't learned quickly, he wouldn't have survived the first war."

That was a very sobering thought. They all pointedly avoided looking at each other or at Snape.

"So it might be impossible for me to learn?" Harry sounded defeated.

"No, it can't be." Hermione quickly disagreed. "Otherwise Dumbledore never would have set you the lessons in the first place."

"They must have given you something to work with." Ron asked helpfully.

Harry thought deeply. "Well, Snape was always yelling at me to control my emotions. And to calm my mind."

"How are you supposed to do _that!_" Ron spat out. It clearly wasn't one of his skills.

"It sound a bit like meditation." Hermione said. That got the attention of the three others, who stared at her in confusion.

"What?"

"Meditation…" She faltered a bit: how was she to explain such a complex technique to them?

"It's a relaxation tool that Muggles use to relax." Not very helpful. She continued hastily.

"Er.. there are different methods to use. Some people use music, mostly classical music, to sooth their stress levels. Others imagine a place in their heads, a safe haven in which they can retreat. Like a garden in their mind. Mantras could work too."

"Mantras?" Remus asked.

"A word or a sentence that you repeat in your mind, over and over until you're calm."

"So that's what you were doing during exams!" Ron said enthusiastically. "You know, the twelve uses of Dragon blood. You were forever muttering that under your breath."

Hermione felt her cheeks redden. "No Ron, that was revision." And this was embarrassing. "But you get the idea."

"It's a bit like counting to ten before saying something in anger." Ron said, proud that he now understood. Maybe his mother had taught him that trick to temper the Weasley outbursts. Not that any of them had mastered it yet...

"A bit," Hermione agreed. "But the words have to have a special meaning to you, they have to work every time: when you're angry, when you're sad, ..."

Remus who had been listening carefully, made a suggestion: "Harry, you got Him out of your mind by thinking about your family and friends. Maybe you can use a list of names as a mantra." The word sounded strange coming out of the Werewolf's house.

"Snape said to _completely_ _clear_ my mind of emotions. If I think of you guys, emotions are bound to flare up." Harry pointed out. He wasn't arguing the entire method however, so Hermione felt emboldened to continue.

"You could concentrate on your breathing." She pushed herself up and moved into a cross-legged position.

"Hermione, you're not supposed to sit up." Remus warned softly.

"Pah!" She clucked impatiently, "As long as I take the potions, nothing will happen. Madam Pomfrey was being overly concerned." The Elf, who had woken up when Harry had entered, tried to protest.

"Isn't that right, Morphy?" Hermione didn't want to argue her restriction anymore.

The Elf fretted with her uniform before finally uttering: "Morphy will check the storage room now." She disappeared. Poor thing, Hermione thought. Then again, she was now finally free to stretch her sore muscles.

She motioned Harry to join her on the bed and to follow her lead. To her surprise, Ron also assumed the same position.

"Just close your eyes and focus on your breathing. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out."

Instead of joining them in the exercise, Hermione kept her eye on them. They both were trying too hard, frowning in concentration. "Relax your muscles. You're both cramping up. Just breathe in. And out."

She kept murmuring _in and out_ until both boys breathed slowly and in perfect unison. She then noticed Remus' eyes on her: he was studying her intently. After a full minute of being stared at, she decided it was giving her the creeps. She clapped her hands to awaken the boys from their 'trance'.

"Wow." Harry said. "So this is meditation?"

Hermione chuckled. "It's a start. If you want, I'll send you some books on the subject, when I get ho…"

The realisation of her mistake hit her hard. She wasn't going home this summer. For just a moment, she had managed to forget that her parents were as good as dead to her. It hurt terribly.

Harry inched closed and fidgeted a second before hugging her. "I'm sorry, Hermione."

She gently shrugged him off. "It's fine, Harry. I'm fine." She simply refused to cry, she had cried enough during the first month of 'grieving'. Besides, they weren't actually dead, they were in hiding. _She was not going to regret that they were now safe_. _Not now. Not ever._

While squashing her emotions back into her heart, her left hand had found her necklace and began playing with it. This attracted Remus' attention again and she found him staring again. Something inside her snapped.

"What!" She all but yelled at him.

He held out his hands in supplication. "That's a pretty necklace,"' he attempted normalcy.

"Nice try." She snorted, "but you've been staring at me for quite some time now."

Next to her, Harry shifted into a defensive position. Even though he was confused (not that she wasn't …), he trusted her more that he trusted a former professor and a friend of his parents. The realisation warmed her.

Remus too noticed that the odds were now three to one and sighed in defeat. "I meant you no harm, Hermione. I was just thinking about your parents too. Your rea.." He stopped himself and nodded his head towards the boys. "Do they know?"

She nodded, they knew she was adopted. She had told Ginny first, emboldened by McGonnogal's kind words. After a few weeks, her curiosity had gotten the better of her and she had wanted to research family crests in the Library in order to track down the Swan. Because she didn't want anyone else to find out (especially those with links to Death Eaters) she had needed to borrow Harry's cloak to do her research at night. So Harry (and Ron) had to be told as well. They had been great actually and had even helped her tackle the books. Unfortunately nothing useful had been found, only dozens and dozens of Hogwarts-inspired lion, badger, snake and raven-coat of arms. Dragons had been popular too.

"And do you know who your real parents are?"

"Yes." Her answer effectively shocked them, but Hermione didn't care. "_My parents_ are my real parents. They raised me, they love me. I'll never stop thinking of them as mum and dad."

Remus and the boys grinned. They should have expected that answer.

"As for my biological parents…" She hesitated, wondering if she should reveal her speculations to Harry and Ron. They had been very supporting up until now , but she didn't know if they would accept Snape. He wasn't exactly their favourite person. He wasn't hers either….

And then there was Remus, who obviously knew something. What did he know and did she want to know? And why was he telling her now? She decided to answer vaguely and see what the older man would do.

"… I have some suspicions."

She managed to keep her voice calm. Her eyes however quickly travelled to check up on the prone figure of her may-be-biological-father. Her friends wouldn't have noticed. The raised eyebrow of Remus told her that he had.

"Suspicions." He repeated dryly. Ron and Harry were confused and were staring at them as if they had both sprouted antlers. Hermione ignored them: this was between her and Remus. And quite possibly Snape.

Determined to keep the conversation on her terms just a little while longer, she raised an eyebrow of her own. Channelling Molly Weasley she added a glare:

"And do you have some suspicions?"

Remus sighed. "I think we have the same suspect." He looked for something in his pockets. "I found this on him."

He handed her a broken fob watch. It would never work again, but the design on top was still recognisable: a swan with a crown. Her breath caught: so it was true.

"It's the same as your necklace." Remus asked.

Ron left his bed to see and Harry scooted closer to Hermione to make room for him on the bed. "Oh wow," Ron said, "I've never seen a family watch so small."

"Family watch?" Harry asked before his brain caught up with his mouth: "Oh, like the clock you guys have in the kitchen? The one to keep track of where everybody is?"

Ron misread the look of shock on Hermione's face as fear. "It's not a spying tool, Hermione. Don't worry. It only works between family members and then only if both parties agree to it."

"I never agreed … Oh, the necklace." It made some sense, she supposed. She hadn't known or accepted that she had a different father until her parents gave her the pendant. Still, it was a broad definition of agreement.

"You have one too?" She asked. Now that she had a theoretical question to ponder, Hermione felt slightly more at ease.

"As a kid I had a bracelet." Ron explained. "But now it just works on intent. As long as I am a part of the Weasley family, I'll be on the clock."

Hermione wanted to ask about Percy, but restrained herself. Cutting someone out of the family was not something you talk about easily.

Everybody fell silent, to digest the new information. Snape was her father? And he wanted to keep an eye on her to keep her safe?

"So why he knew you were in danger at the Ministry? The watch told him you were in danger?" Harry had connected the dots and had come to the same conclusion as Hermione had. She nodded. She had been in mortal danger, even before Dolohov had cast the curse at her.

Ron hadn't caught up just yet. "Who?"

"Snape." "Severus." "Professor Snape." All three answered simultaneously.

"Snape?"

Hermione almost laughed: she hadn't heard Ron's voice go quite that high since they had met Fluffy for the first time. Harry elbowed him in the side and spoke firmly:

"Yes, Snape. He came to save her and he did. He saved the rest of us too."

A high endorsement from Harry, who until a few days ago didn't miss a chance to badmouth his professor. Then again, he was right. Whatever they had suspected before: he had fought Voldemort himself and Fawkes had healed him. He was on their side, clear and simple.

Ron, still slightly pale, nodded: "Yes, right. Sorry, Hermione. It was just a bit of a shock."

Hermione snorted: "Yes, for me too, Ron." They all laughed nervously, but at least now the tense atmosphere was broken.

"How long have you suspected?" Remus asked. Hermione quickly explained what had happened in the infirmary. Remus told them about the conversation he had had with Tonks.

"We should keep this information between us." Remus added. "Both you and Severus are high on the Death Eaters list. We wouldn't want them to use you against each other. I'm sure Tonks will agree."

Ron and Harry both nodded solemnly .

"Madam Pomfrey knows as well, I think," Hermione said, "But she won't tell."

"Do you think Dumbledore knows?" Ron asked. "He know everything."

Hermione had thought about the possibility before: "I don't think so. Dumbledore saw the pendant in January. Snape didn't know until May. Surely he would have told him?"

With a tone to his voice that Hermione had never heard before Harry drawled: "Sure, Dumbledore doesn't keep secrets from people."

No one knew how to respond to that. It wasn't _untrue_.

Ron decided to diffuse the situation by changing the subject. Bless his heart. "Do you have any idea who your biological mother is?"

Hermione just shook her head. She had no idea whatsoever, only hopes and fears.

"What about you, Remus. Didn't you go to school with him?" Ron asked.

Harry, quite surprisingly, snorted. "As if he would tell him."

"Well, no. I know that you guys weren't exactly friends with him being in Slytherin." Ron explained. "'But even I know Malfoy is dating Parkinson and that Crabbe has the hots for Greengrass."

Baffled by such logic Remus had no other option than to answer. "I don't think he ever dated someone during Hogwarts. In fact, until I knew about Hermione, I always thought he was stuck on Lily."

Lily? Harry's mum? But how? As if he read the questions on their faces, he continued.

"I don't know if I should tell you this, but Snape and Lily were friends. Even before Hogwarts. They grew up in the same neighbourhood."

That was a shocker: Hermione had known that Snape was a half-blood, but that he had grown up Muggle was still a surprise. Harry stiffened next to her. She understood: he knew near to nothing about his parents and now he had just found out that the Professor was a childhood friend of his mothers and had never told him. She would be angry too. There went the tentative truce she had imagined between Harry and Snape…

But then Harry surprised them all when he directed his anger towards Remus instead.

"So that why you lot bullied him? Because a slimy Slytherin had the guts to be friends with my mum?"

_Bullied?_ The terror of the dungeons? The man who could make firsties cry just by glaring at them? The scariest man on Earth was bullied as a teenager? Impossible! But Remus didn't deny it. If anything his pale face and body language screamed embarrassment.

"It wasn't like that." Remus tried to defend himself. _Merlin, so it was true. _

"Than what was it like, Remus? What could he possibly have done or said to deserve being attacked four to one?"

Hermione gasped and Ron just stared at them with an open mouth.

"Oh right, I remember." The sarcasm dripped from his words: "He existed."

She was missing several pieces to this conversation, Hermione realised. It didn't matter. Sensing that Harry was about to loose it control or run away, she quickly grabbed one of his hands and squeezed hard. Ron mimicked her actions on Harry's other side. The contact seemed to ground him and he calmed.

"It wasn't like that." Remus repeated, as if he wanted to convince himself. "He gave as good as he got. Him and his Death Eaters friends."

"That's not what I saw." Harry stated, making Hermione wonder what exactly he had seen. A memory? Had he broken into Snape's mind during practice?

Remus sighed like a defeated man. "You saw James at his worst. I should have stopped him, yes. But the hatred was mutual. He hated us too. It doesn't mean we're bad people. We've grown up. We even work together in the Order."

"Sirius still calls Snape Snivellus." Ron pointed out. They had all spent enough time in Grimmauld to have heard that.

Remus winced. "Sirius in many ways still has to grow up."

An uncomfortable silence fell. "Did my dad grow up?"

Hermione understood why Harry asked. When he came to Hogwarts he had finally been presented with information of his parents. It was a rather ideal image: _Head girl meets Quidditch captain, golden couple of Gryffindor, fighters against evil. _He worshipped the Marauders (minus Wormtail). This confrontation with reality must be painful for him. It was for her too.

"James became a great adult. Lily wouldn't have married him otherwise. She was a good person, Harry. And so was your dad."

And her father… biological father had grown up to be a Death Eater. _Spectacular._

"He's a good man too, Hermione." Remus said. "Not a nice man, certainly not a pleasant man. But a good one."

"He's a Death Eater." Hermione whispered. Her fears came close to surfacing.

"He came back to us. He even spied for us, risking his own life. I may not like the man, but I can respect that."

"He's a git, but he saved Harry's life more than once." Ron paraphrased.

"He's an awful teacher, but he's loyal to Dumbledore." Harry concluded.

It was a grotesque parody of compliments, but at least the words were true. They were waiting for her to add a thought of her own.

"He was an adequate guardian… He …" She faltered. "I just want him to wake up." And answer some questions.

"We all do, Hermione. Nobody deserves to die like that." Remus awkwardly patted her knee.

Not even Ron, who was a master in breaking uneasy moments, found something to say after that. It wasn't until they heard the tower clock in the distance striking that they began to move.

"Well." Remus said. "I think it's time Harry went back to the dormitory. I'll give you an escort."

Harry shrugged and rose from the bed. Hermione didn't think any of them would fall asleep easily that night. Too much had been said.

As Harry and Remus walked out the door, Hermione noticed that Ron hadn't left her bed yet.

"So…" He drew out: "Snape is your father?"

All the fears that Ron wouldn't accept this flowed back into her body. He laid a hand on her arm. "It's ok Hermione. I don't care." He thought a bit. "Ok, I do care. I hope that he treats you all right."

"But you don't care we're related?" Irrational visions of Ron and the other Gryffindors ignoring her the next two years plagued her mind. She didn't think the Slytherins would take to her either.

"You could be Malfoy's long lost twin sister, for I care. You are you. _I like you_."

His face turned an interesting colour of red as soon as he had spoken those words, but Hermione didn't care. It had been exactly what she needed to hear. She clung to him, crying tears of happiness. He returned the hug, engulfing her with strong arms. She suddenly wondered when he had developed those muscles; probably the Keeper practice…

When they disentangled, Hermione saw that he was still bright red. Dear Merlin, she had embarrassed him, hadn't she?

"Sorry." She offered softly.

"No problem. I'd be upset too, if I found out that my parents weren't really my parents."

Hermione chuckled and ruffled his red hear. "You can't _not _be a Weasley."

"You don't look like him at all." Ron noted in return and Hermione's mood fell again.

"You've inherited his brains, though."

"What?" She asked confused.

"My mum once told us we should stop nagging about his 'teaching style' and be glad that we got the chance to study under Worlds' youngest Potions Master ever. He got his degree after 3 years of apprenticeship instead of the normal 5 or more."

Hermione took in the new information and added it to her own calculations. When he had met her mother, he had still been an apprentice. The thought that he had not been a fulltime Death Eater yet soothed her worries.

"Sounds a bit like a certain know-it-all I know." Ron teased gently. She swatted his arm gently, but knew he was right. She'd try and overachieve as well.

Ron had done the math as well, because next he said: "Maybe he fell in love with one of his fellow apprentices. That should explain your Superbrain."

Hermione didn't share his romantic notions. "And what happened to her then?"

A thousand possibilities shot trough her mind. None of them were good. Ron just stared at her.

"You shouldn't assume the worst, you know." He finally said. "If he cared enough to leave you that pendant, he probably cared about your mother too."

Whether he had guessed it right or not, that was exactly what bothered Hermione. She had heard terrible things about Dark revels. She wouldn't be able to bare it if she was the product of rape.

"But what if…" She couldn't force the words past her lips. "He didn't love her."

Ron thought carefully before he spoke. "Giving you the pendant, means that he acknowledged you as his. That means he stuck around for nine months until you were born. Even if he didn't love her, they must have been friendly at least."

Hermione opened her mouth and closed it again. She was astonished: how had she not made that logical link? Off course he had been there for the birth: it was him who had given her up, wasn't it? That meant that he had known her mother…

She leapt into his arms again. This time the hug ended as quickly as it had happened. The blush however returned.

"Eh.. yeah. Chess?" Ron stumbled. It seemed his time for intelligent words had ended. Hermione gladly agreed, wanting to forget all the emotional drama for a while.

Ten minutes (and several slaughtered pawns) later, Hermione realised that Remus hadn't returned yet. He and Harry had probably gone to an empty classroom to talk about his parents. She didn't know how to feel about that. The picture Harry had painted before wasn't a pleasant one and it had damaged the image she had of Remus as a pacifist werewolf. (Somehow it wasn't that hard to imagine Sirius as a teenage pratt.) On the other hand, next to his Godfather, Harry had no family left. He could count on the Weasleys and on the teachers to be there for him, but that wasn't the same as having an actual father figure. Hermione sighed, if Harry lost Sirius, it would hurt him badly. She only hoped Remus could mend the rift.

She concentrated on the game anew. She would loose in the end, (she always lost to Ron) but she didn't want to be defeated too easily.

It was when she was contemplating the possible movement of her knight that she first heard the sound. It was ever so softly and if they had been talking, she probably wouldn't have heard it. She looked up and saw that Ron had heard it too. With his eyes wide open he stared at Snape's bed.

"He's waking up."

As on cue, Snape groaned again. He was in pain. The realisation literally moved Hermione. In a matter of seconds she was by his side. "It's ok, you're safe." She spoke helplessly.

Ron had moved past his stupor as well and ran towards the storage room. She could hear him order the Elf to find Madam Pomfrey. Smart move.

Snape had opened his eyes. While he still seemed groggy, he made to get up. Hermione gently restrained him by resting her hand on his chest. "Don't get up yet, you're hurt."

Following the sound of her voice, his eyes landed on her. "Rose?" He whispered.

The world around her froze. Her heart skipped several beat and it wasn't until he spoke again her brain started functioning anew.

"I'm dead, aren't I." Hermione couldn't answer.

"I'm sorry, Rose. I'm sorry I left you. But I had to. He would have killed you." There was no doubt who _He_ was. And he clearly had loved her. If he wasn't slowly working himself into a panic, Hermione would feel relieved. She desperately wanted to comfort him, but she had no idea how to.

"I didn't know. I swear I didn't know until Master Belby told me and you were already gone. But she's safe. I couldn't raise her myself but she's safe."

Again, Hermione tried to speak, to reassure him, but she couldn't find words. Ron meanwhile walked back into the door, took one look at her stiff form, muttered "Bloody hell" and came to her rescue.

He hadn't heard the entire conversation, but the word safe seemed to be his way in. "Safe, yes Professor, you saved us. You saved Hermione."

The professor paused in the middle of his feverish rant. "Hermione?" He asked, sounding terribly lost and confused.

Ron didn't understand and mouthed at Hermione: "What?"

She finally managed to force a few words past her own panic attack. "He's confused." Confused, she thought, that was the understatement of the century! He thought he was dead and she was his dead girlfriend.

Ron just nodded, gently pushed her aside and turned to Snape. "I need you to listen to me, Sir." He spoke loud, but calm. "You're in the Hogwarts infirmary. You were hurt in a fight and we are waiting for Madam Pomfrey."

"Hogwarts." Snape repeated. "Madam Pomfrey." He still sounded confused, but those words clearly meant something to him. "So I'm not dead?"

"No Sir, you are not. You were hurt badly, but Fawkes healed you. Do you know Fawkes?"

"Dumbledore's Phoenix."

Ron had obviously done this before, Hermione realised. And he was good at it. In a matter of seconds Ron had calmed him, reminded him where he was and was gently testing his memory instead of bombarding him with information. Hermione could almost see the cogs in the professor's brain clicking back into place.

"Do you remember who I am?"

Snape turned his head to look at him, staring in the red hair. "Weasley."

"Ah, but which Weasley?" Ron asked with a smirk.

Snape answered correctly with annoyance in his voice. "Ronald Billius Weasley. Is there a point to these questions?"

It was Ron's turn to blink at the knowledge of his middle name. He didn't let it faze him however.

"Do you remember what happened?" The most important question.

"Potter." Snape spat out. He was himself again, all right.

"He went after the Prophesy. I sent the Order after you, but then I …" He stopped himself from saying what he was planning to say. "You weren't safe so I went after you." During those words his eyes had flickered from Ron to Hermione.

"After arriving, my memory becomes unclear." He finished frustrated.

"You joined the fight. You defeated the Death Eaters and when you tried to send us back, Vold.. Vol.. You-know-who showed up." It was a short recapitulation, but both Ron and Hermione had been incapacitated before then and only had the others' stories to go on.

"We fought?" It wasn't exactly a question, but it wasn't a statement either.

Before Hermione or Ron could answer, Madam Pomfrey burst into the room, sloppily dressed and her wand drawn.

Seconds later, she and Snape were hidden behind a privacy screen. The teens could only hear muffled sounds coming from behind it.

Hermione felt utterly and completely lost. What had just happened?

"Are you ok?" Ron's quiet but worried voice brought her back to herself.

"I'm…" _Fine_ would be a lie. Confused would be more accurate. Overwhelmed was most like it. Hermione balled her hands into fists and silently admonished herself to get a grip.

"I just lost it for a moment there." It was meant as both an explanation and a apology.

Ron smiled gently. "That's all right. I didn't know what to do either the first it happened to me."

Hermione had noticed his experience. Now the crisis was over, she was curious where he had learned. She did have an idea.

"Harry's nightmares?" She asked. From what she had heard from Ron and witnessed herself during the holidays, she knew Harry had awful dreams.

Ron shook his head. "Ginny. The summer after her first year was terrible for her."

Hermione winced. Ginny had recovered admirably from that ordeal. In fact she had become such a strong girl that Hermione often forgot that she had been possessed by a young Voldemort. Those dreams must have been hellish. With an uncharacteristic viciousness she suddenly hoped Lucius Malfoy was burning in hell for what he had done.

"My dad taught me how to calm her afterwards." Ron continued. It must have been terrible for him as well, Hermione realised. Not even thirteen years old and knowing that his little sister didn't even feel safe in her own bed. "We bought a Egyptian Dreamcatcher, when we visited Bill that summer. It really works for her." He shrugged. "Well, she still has nightmares, but it's way better now."

Hermione had witnessed some of those nightmares when they had shared a room over summer. She had woken her friend up, just like Ginny had needed to wake her up sometimes. They all had nightmares these days. She just never thought Ginny's dreams had been anything out of the ordinary.

Out of the ordinary… She considered nightmares ordinary now. _That's just wonderful_. She wondered what the therapist she used to see (when her parents still thought she was a toddler-terror with a penchant for setting fires) would think of her now.

She felt like crying. Or perhaps even laughing. She didn't get the opportunity to do either. That very moment Madam Pomfrey reappeared and Hermione quickly focused on her.

"He's sleeping for now. I think it's best for you two to go to bed as well."

The Matron produced two vials of Dreamless sleep. For once, Hermione didn't argue.

* * *

A few notes after this chapter. Perhaps some of you will think it odd that Harry and Ron don't respond badly to the news. They did just have two days of questioning why Snape came and saved the day. Fawkes healed him, so they now know for sure he's one of the good guys. I don't think they would stress to much about it: after all Ron didn't freak when they found out Harry's a Parselmouth. Snape also didn't commit the mortal sin of killing Dumbledore yet (and he won't in my story). As Sirius didn't die, Harry doesn't blame Snape for that either. He's just that bastard potions professor with the evil tongue.

I do think Hermione would take it badly. She would fret about every possibility (such as: if he was a Death Eater, did he rape my biological mother?). The panic attack when he wakes up is also in character: she did so when attacked by Devil's Snare and when meeting Grawp.

As for Ginny. At the end of book 2 we have a traumatised little girl. In the beginning of book 3, she's fine and dandy, happy after her trip abroad. Bit fast, no? I imagine Ron being very protective of his little sister. After all, with the twins as his older brothers, I think the youngest two used to stick together.


End file.
